Whym Chow: Flame of Love By Michael Field [i.e. K. H. Bradley and E. E. Cooper] |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. | IV.
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| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
 | Whym Chow: Flame of Love |  |
14
IV.
[O Dionysus, at thy feet]
O Dionysus, at thy feet
The beauteous reveller, our joy, we lay—
Our Bacchic Cub, the dear tamed animal,
So often touched with ivy-coronal,
Who, breathing day
As from a mountain, found thy worship sweet.
The beauteous reveller, our joy, we lay—
Our Bacchic Cub, the dear tamed animal,
So often touched with ivy-coronal,
Who, breathing day
As from a mountain, found thy worship sweet.
O god, o vine, on his dead side
Stain of thy grape: above his corse we drink
In sacrament to thy divinest folly
That made all creatures of bright revel holy,
Chose them to link
With god and mænads in one rapture wide.
Stain of thy grape: above his corse we drink
In sacrament to thy divinest folly
That made all creatures of bright revel holy,
Chose them to link
With god and mænads in one rapture wide.
He loved thy torch of vivid flame,
He loved the breath of life, the rush, the glance
Of eyes from inmost happiness, and splendid
His glow as on his joyance he attended
With countenance
Of merchant over jewels of deep fame.
He loved the breath of life, the rush, the glance
Of eyes from inmost happiness, and splendid
His glow as on his joyance he attended
With countenance
Of merchant over jewels of deep fame.
Receive him, tragic god of tendrilled fire—
Our sweetest, let us rove and rove with him.
We pledged him in thy grape. Leave us not lonely!
But bring him and thy wine-cup with thee only—
Our Chow, our Whym,
And thirst should end, and passion bind desire.
Our sweetest, let us rove and rove with him.
We pledged him in thy grape. Leave us not lonely!
But bring him and thy wine-cup with thee only—
Our Chow, our Whym,
And thirst should end, and passion bind desire.
| Whym Chow: Flame of Love | |