THE DARK ANGEL
By Lionel Johnson
Dark Angel, with thine aching lustTo rid the world of penitence:Malicious Angel, who still dostMy soul such subtile violence!Because of thee, no thought, no thing,Abides for me undesecrate:Dark Angel, ever on the wing,Who never reachest me too late!When music sounds, then changest thouIts silvery to a sultry fire:Nor will thine envious heart allowDelight untortured by desire.Through thee, the gracious Muses turnTo Furies, O mine Enemy!And all the things of beauty burnWith flames of evil ecstasy.Because of thee, the land of dreamsBecomes a gathering place of fears:Until tormented slumber seemsOne vehemence of useless tears.
Dark Angel, with thine aching lustTo rid the world of penitence:Malicious Angel, who still dostMy soul such subtile violence!Because of thee, no thought, no thing,Abides for me undesecrate:Dark Angel, ever on the wing,Who never reachest me too late!When music sounds, then changest thouIts silvery to a sultry fire:Nor will thine envious heart allowDelight untortured by desire.Through thee, the gracious Muses turnTo Furies, O mine Enemy!And all the things of beauty burnWith flames of evil ecstasy.Because of thee, the land of dreamsBecomes a gathering place of fears:Until tormented slumber seemsOne vehemence of useless tears.
Dark Angel, with thine aching lustTo rid the world of penitence:Malicious Angel, who still dostMy soul such subtile violence!
Dark Angel, with thine aching lust
To rid the world of penitence:
Malicious Angel, who still dost
My soul such subtile violence!
Because of thee, no thought, no thing,Abides for me undesecrate:Dark Angel, ever on the wing,Who never reachest me too late!
Because of thee, no thought, no thing,
Abides for me undesecrate:
Dark Angel, ever on the wing,
Who never reachest me too late!
When music sounds, then changest thouIts silvery to a sultry fire:Nor will thine envious heart allowDelight untortured by desire.
When music sounds, then changest thou
Its silvery to a sultry fire:
Nor will thine envious heart allow
Delight untortured by desire.
Through thee, the gracious Muses turnTo Furies, O mine Enemy!And all the things of beauty burnWith flames of evil ecstasy.
Through thee, the gracious Muses turn
To Furies, O mine Enemy!
And all the things of beauty burn
With flames of evil ecstasy.
Because of thee, the land of dreamsBecomes a gathering place of fears:Until tormented slumber seemsOne vehemence of useless tears.
Because of thee, the land of dreams
Becomes a gathering place of fears:
Until tormented slumber seems
One vehemence of useless tears.
When sunlight glows upon the flowers,Or ripples down the dancing sea:Thou, with thy troop of passionate powers,Beleaguerest, bewilderest, me.Within the breath of autumn woods,Within the winter silences:Thy venomous spirit stirs and broods,O Master of impieties!The ardour of red flame is thine,And thine the steely soul of ice:Thou poisonest the fair designOf nature, with unfair device.Apples of ashes, golden bright;Waters of bitterness, how sweet!O banquet of a foul delight,Prepared by thee, dark Paraclete!Thou art the whisper in the gloom,The hinting tone, the haunting laugh:Thou art the adorner of my tomb,The minstrel of mine epitaph.I fight thee, in the Holy Name!Yet, what thou dost, is what God saith:Tempter! should I escape thy flame,Thou wilt have helped my soul from Death:The second Death, that never dies,That cannot die, when time is dead:Live Death, wherein the lost soul cries,Eternally uncomforted.
When sunlight glows upon the flowers,Or ripples down the dancing sea:Thou, with thy troop of passionate powers,Beleaguerest, bewilderest, me.Within the breath of autumn woods,Within the winter silences:Thy venomous spirit stirs and broods,O Master of impieties!The ardour of red flame is thine,And thine the steely soul of ice:Thou poisonest the fair designOf nature, with unfair device.Apples of ashes, golden bright;Waters of bitterness, how sweet!O banquet of a foul delight,Prepared by thee, dark Paraclete!Thou art the whisper in the gloom,The hinting tone, the haunting laugh:Thou art the adorner of my tomb,The minstrel of mine epitaph.I fight thee, in the Holy Name!Yet, what thou dost, is what God saith:Tempter! should I escape thy flame,Thou wilt have helped my soul from Death:The second Death, that never dies,That cannot die, when time is dead:Live Death, wherein the lost soul cries,Eternally uncomforted.
When sunlight glows upon the flowers,Or ripples down the dancing sea:Thou, with thy troop of passionate powers,Beleaguerest, bewilderest, me.
When sunlight glows upon the flowers,
Or ripples down the dancing sea:
Thou, with thy troop of passionate powers,
Beleaguerest, bewilderest, me.
Within the breath of autumn woods,Within the winter silences:Thy venomous spirit stirs and broods,O Master of impieties!
Within the breath of autumn woods,
Within the winter silences:
Thy venomous spirit stirs and broods,
O Master of impieties!
The ardour of red flame is thine,And thine the steely soul of ice:Thou poisonest the fair designOf nature, with unfair device.
The ardour of red flame is thine,
And thine the steely soul of ice:
Thou poisonest the fair design
Of nature, with unfair device.
Apples of ashes, golden bright;Waters of bitterness, how sweet!O banquet of a foul delight,Prepared by thee, dark Paraclete!
Apples of ashes, golden bright;
Waters of bitterness, how sweet!
O banquet of a foul delight,
Prepared by thee, dark Paraclete!
Thou art the whisper in the gloom,The hinting tone, the haunting laugh:Thou art the adorner of my tomb,The minstrel of mine epitaph.
Thou art the whisper in the gloom,
The hinting tone, the haunting laugh:
Thou art the adorner of my tomb,
The minstrel of mine epitaph.
I fight thee, in the Holy Name!Yet, what thou dost, is what God saith:Tempter! should I escape thy flame,Thou wilt have helped my soul from Death:
I fight thee, in the Holy Name!
Yet, what thou dost, is what God saith:
Tempter! should I escape thy flame,
Thou wilt have helped my soul from Death:
The second Death, that never dies,That cannot die, when time is dead:Live Death, wherein the lost soul cries,Eternally uncomforted.
The second Death, that never dies,
That cannot die, when time is dead:
Live Death, wherein the lost soul cries,
Eternally uncomforted.
Dark Angel, with thine aching lust!Of two defeats, of two despairs:Less dread, a change to drifting dust,Than thine eternity of cares.Do what thou wilt, thou shalt not so,Dark Angel! triumph over me:Lonely, unto the Lone I go;Divine, to the Divinity.
Dark Angel, with thine aching lust!Of two defeats, of two despairs:Less dread, a change to drifting dust,Than thine eternity of cares.Do what thou wilt, thou shalt not so,Dark Angel! triumph over me:Lonely, unto the Lone I go;Divine, to the Divinity.
Dark Angel, with thine aching lust!Of two defeats, of two despairs:Less dread, a change to drifting dust,Than thine eternity of cares.
Dark Angel, with thine aching lust!
Of two defeats, of two despairs:
Less dread, a change to drifting dust,
Than thine eternity of cares.
Do what thou wilt, thou shalt not so,Dark Angel! triumph over me:Lonely, unto the Lone I go;Divine, to the Divinity.
Do what thou wilt, thou shalt not so,
Dark Angel! triumph over me:
Lonely, unto the Lone I go;
Divine, to the Divinity.