THE SALAMANDER
(Love Dæmonic)
“The Fire-Philosophers, and the Rosicrucians,
or Illuminati, taught that all knowable things
(both of the soul and of the body) were evolved
out of fire, and finally resolvable into it: and
that fire was the last and the only-to-be known
God: as that all things were capable of being
searched down into it, and all things were capable
of being thought up into it.”—
The Rosicrucians.
Once she breathed upon my eyes,
Touched the soul that dreamed within me;
All the magic that might win me
Whispered to my heart with sighs—
Darkness can not make them lies! ...
Bring me moly, hellebore!
Mix them for my soul's nepenthe,
For my spirit's dread Amenti,
For the curse that comes once more
With unutterable lore!
Sunlight, starlight or the moon,
Stormlight, firelight or the sheening
Witchlight intimate no meaning
Of her glory's plenilune;
Of her soul's unriddled rune,
And most awful beauty! nor
Actual, nor yet ideal!—
Insubstantial and yet real;
Partly flame and partly star,
Yet no part of what these are.
I am hers and—woe is mine! ...
Has she drugged me with the sadness
Of some elemental madness?—
Like a demigod I pine
'Twixt the mortal and divine ...
When I see her, lo, she stands
In the luminous electre
Of a star: a smiling spectre
With white scintillating hands
Luring to unhallowed lands.
Then, behold, in fearful file,
A mirage of tower and terrace,
Lawn and mountain range,—that buries
Flame in frost,—looms! mile on mile
Of her crescent-glowing Isle:
Where the lurid waters lull
Shores that roll the rainbow fire;
Where, with living lute and lyre,
Rose-red, swiftly as a gull,
Glides her star-like galley's hull.
And, behold, before I know,
I am where her walls of amber,
Towers of limpid ruby, clamber
Over terraces below
Summits of refulgent snow.
Lambent lazuli and shell
Colonnade her courts of marble;
Where, of lightning, fountains warble
Out of basined pearl, or well
Into hollowed carbuncle.
Rosy silver seems her skin,
And a flame her arm commanding,
With its gleaming hand, me, standing
At her gates, to enter in,
Burning as a Seraphin.
Lucid darkness are her eyes,
Where the frozen fire smolders;
And upon her shining shoulders,
Like a tangible glitter, lies
Auburn hair like sunset skies.
Mouth of sibilant soft flame;
Lilith lips, whose roses lighten
With illusive love; and brighten
With wild passion and the name
Of desire no man may tame.
Passion, and the thoughts that wed
Love and loathing; such caresses
Of sweet touch as naught expresses
Here on Earth, yet full of dread,
Madness, whereof death is bred.
She hath drawn me to her lips;
Borne me through her palace portal;
And the fire, which is immortal,
From me like a garment slips—
Ah, the spirit-part's eclipse!
As when moon and planet swoon
Unto each, my body kindles,
Strangely, while my spirit dwindles,
Like the Earth-o'ershadowed moon,
Darkening from lune to lune.
Then she laughs; and leads me where
Cloudy, wild, chameleon color
Marbles halls with hues, the duller
For her astral presence there,
Beaming white with beaming hair:
Where, in roses purple pale,—
Dropping like a ruby bubble
Through the moon dust,—“double double,”
Throbs the crimson nightingale,
There she lures me with some tale.
Or to where the scarlet snake
Coils beneath great flaming flowers;
Where the musk mimosa bowers
Roll their rosy clouds, and make
Sunset heavens of each lake.
Where the bees and moths go by,
Fiery diamond; opal-burning
Butterflies, and iris-turning
Peacock-painted birds, that vie
With the flow'rs, like fragments fly
Of wild rainbow: Where, in rills,
Down the rocks, that lichens redden,
Constellated moss and leaden
Fungus glow; and all the hills,
As with flames, the orchid fills.
Where, in coruscating light,
Glare the golden-checkered zinnias;
And the bugle-bloomed gloxinias,
Making morning of each height,
Float like mists of ruby white.
There, beneath some blazing vine,
Where the liquid moonlight glitters
Of a river,—coral litters
Red with grail,—like prisms in wine
I have watched the fishes shine.
Or, o'er sunset-colored moss,
Glow-worms trail their beryls; sprinkling
Green the smouldering shade; while, twinkling,
With convulsive sapphire gloss,
Fireflies rained blue lights across.
Where the reeds seemed rays of rose,
And white mirrored moons, the lotus—
Each a spirit giving notice
Of the inner light that glows
Where the under water flows—
Shapes arose of flashing spray:—
Where, a wild auroral splendor,
Rolled the forest,—emerald-tender
As the light of breaking day,—
Beckoned forms of starry ray.
Through the violetish light,
Winged with nautilus and lily
Flame, adown the forests stilly
Vistas, moony whirls of white,
Floated shapes with eyes of night.
I must follow where she leads.—
Blinding portals of her castle
To my entering feet are facile. ...
Love no terrible trumpet needs
At her gates to bugle deeds. ...
Lo, my being never veils
Aught from her. To her caresses
All my heart knows it confesses
With a faith that never fails,
Though it hears the truth that wails
In its soul's admonishment,
Of the curse that sits in session
In each amorous expression
Of her love; its violent
Flame, by which my life is rent.
I have drained the feverish cup
Of all darkness. Made a leman
Of an elemental demon;
And my soul lies, staring up,
Draining poison at each sup.—
While she smiles on me 'tis well:
I shall follow, though she make me
What her self is; never wake me
From the dream I can not tell,
That is neither heaven nor hell:
Where I drink mesmeric gold
Of wild vision,—that romances
In informing Protean fancies
With a beauty never old,
And emotion never cold.—
Let me drink and never wake
From the trances that environ
Me, and 'neath the subtle siren
See the demon, like a snake,
With destroying eyes that ache.
While the slow laconic look
Of her eyes express no censure,
Gazing in them, I adventure,—
Far beyond the wisest book,—
Ways her serpent fancy took.
Yet I know I reverence
One whose gaze in God's negation;
One who, like an emanation
Of all evil, chains my sense
With satanic influence.
Yet, while still I hear her say,
“One more kiss before the morning!
One more bliss for love's adorning!
One more kiss ere break of day,”
Still my soul with her must stay.
Stay, nor know, nor ever see!
Till her basilisk beauty flashes,
And the curse, from out the ashes
Of her passion, fiery,
Strikes—destroying utterly.
