But with the Dawn she does not go and in the
night-time she is there.
Dawn follows Dawn and Nights grow old and
all the while this curious cat
Lies couching on the Chinese mat with eyes of
satin rimmed with gold.
Upon the mat she lies and leers and on the
tawny
throat of her
Flutters the soft and silky fur or ripples to her
pointed ears.
Come forth, my lovely seneschal! so somnolent,
so statuesque!
Come forth you
exquisite grotesque! half woman
and half animal!
Come forth my lovely languorous Sphinx! and
put your head upon my knee!
And let me stroke your
throat and see your
body spotted like the Lynx!
And let me touch those curving claws of yellow
ivory and grasp
The tail that like a
monstrous Asp coils round
your heavy
velvet paws!
A thousand weary centuries are thine
while I have hardly seen
Some twenty summers cast their green for
Autumn's gaudy liveries.
But you can read the Hieroglyphs on the
great
sandstone obelisks,
And you have talked with Basilisks, and you
have looked on Hippogriffs.
O tell me, were you
standing by when Isis to
Osiris knelt?
And did you watch the Egyptian melt her union
for Antony
And drink the jewel-drunken wine and bend
her head in mimic awe
To see the huge proconsul draw the salted tunny
from the brine?
And did you mark the Cyprian kiss white Adon
on his catafalque?
And did you follow Amenalk, the God of
Heliopolis?
And did you talk with Thoth, and did you hear
the moon-horned Io weep?
And know the painted kings who sleep beneath
the wedge-shaped Pyramid?
Lift up your large black satin eyes which are
like cushions where one sinks!
Fawn at my feet,
fantastic Sphinx! and sing me
all your memories!
Sing to me of the Jewish maid who wandered
with the Holy Child,
And how you led them through the wild, and
how they slept beneath your shade.
Sing to me of that odorous green eve when
crouching by the marge
You heard from Adrian's gilded barge the
laughter of Antinous
And lapped the
stream and fed your drouth and
watched with hot and hungry stare
The ivory body of that rare young slave with
his pomegranate mouth!
Sing to me of the Labyrinth in which the twi-
formed bull was stalled!
Sing to me of the night you crawled across the
temple's
granite plinth
When through the
purple corridors the screaming
scarlet Ibis flew
In
terror, and a
horrid dew dripped from the
moaning Mandragores,
And the great torpid
crocodile within the tank
shed slimy tears,
And tare the jewels from his ears and staggered
back into the Nile,
And the priests cursed you with
shrill psalms as
in your claws you seized their snake
And crept away with it to slake your
passion by
the shuddering palms.
Who were your lovers? who were they
who wrestled for you in the dust?
Which was the
vessel of your Lust? What
Leman had you, every day?
Did giant Lizards come and
crouch before you
on the reedy banks?
Did Gryphons with great metal flanks leap on
you in your trampled couch?
Did
monstrous hippopotami come sidling toward
you in the mist?
Did gilt-scaled dragons
writhe and twist with
passion as you passed them by?
And from the brick-built Lycian tomb what
horrible Chimera came
With
fearful heads and
fearful flame to breed
new wonders from your womb?
Or had you
shameful secret quests and did
you harry to your home
Some Nereid coiled in amber foam with curious
rock
crystal breasts?
Or did you treading through the froth call to
the brown Sidonian
For
tidings of Leviathan, Leviathan or
Behemoth?
Or did you when the sun was set climb up the
cactus-covered slope
To meet your
swarthy Ethiop whose body was
of polished jet?
Or did you while the
earthen skiffs dropped
down the grey Nilotic flats
At
twilight and the flickering bats flew round
the temple's
triple glyphs
Steal to the border of the bar and swim across
the silent lake
And slink into the vault and make the Pyramid
your lupanar
Till from each black sarcophagus rose up the
painted swathed dead?
Or did you lure unto your bed the ivory-horned
Tragelaphos?
Or did you love the god of flies who plagued
the Hebrews and was splashed
With wine unto the waist? or Pasht, who had
green beryls for her eyes?
Or that young god, the Tyrian, who was more
amorous than the dove
Of Ashtaroth? or did you love the god of the
As
syrianWhose wings, like strange
transparent talc, rose
high above his hawk-faced head,
Painted with silver and with red and
ribbed with
rods of Oreichalch?
Or did huge Apis from his car leap down and
lay before your feet
Big blossoms of the honey-sweet and honey-
coloured nenuphar?
How subtle-secret is your smile! Did you
love none then? Nay, I know
Great Ammon was your bedfellow! He lay with
you beside the Nile!
The river-horses in the slime trumpeted when
they saw him come
Odorous with Syrian galbanum and smeared with
spikenard and with thyme.
He came along the river bank like some tall
galley argent-sailed,
He
strode across the waters, mailed in beauty,
and the waters sank.
He
strode across the desert sand: he reached
the
valley where you lay:
He waited till the dawn of day: then touched
your black breasts with his hand.
You kissed his mouth with mouths of flame:
you made the horned god your own:
You stood behind him on his
throne: you called
him by his secret name.
You whispered
monstrous oracles into the
caverns of his ears:
With blood of goats and blood of steers you
taught him
monstrous miracles.
White Ammon was your bedfellow! Your
chamber was the steaming Nile!
And with your curved archaic smile you watched
his
passion come and go.
With Syrian oils his brows were bright:
and wide-spread as a tent at noon
His
marble limbs made pale the moon and lent
the day a larger light.
His long hair was nine cubits' span and coloured
like that yellow gem
Which
hidden in their garment's hem the
merchants bring from Kurdistan.
His face was as the must that lies upon a vat of
new-made wine:
The seas could not insapphirine the perfect azure
of his eyes.
His thick soft
throat was white as milk and
threaded with thin veins of blue:
And curious pearls like
frozen dew were
broidered on his flowing silk.
On pearl and porphyry pedestalled he was
too bright to look upon:
For on his ivory breast there shone the wondrous
ocean-emerald,
That
mysticmoonlit jewel which some diver of
the Colchian caves
Had found beneath the blackening waves and
carried to the Colchian witch.
Before his gilded galiot ran naked vine-wreathed
corybants,
And lines of swaying elephants knelt down to
draw his chariot,
And lines of
swarthy Nubians bare up his litter
as he rode
Down the great
granite-paven road between the
nodding peacock-fans.
The merchants brought him steatite from Sidon
in their painted ships:
The meanest cup that touched his lips was
fashioned from a chrysolite.
The merchants brought him cedar chests of rich
apparel bound with cords:
His train was borne by Memphian lords: young