LOVE POEMS

LOVE POEMSTHE GOLDEN SNAKE

Herbody’s glory is a golden snakeAround Life’s treeCoiled: the tree shall breakIn the blast of EternityAnd the coil be crushed.Too late! immortal poison has rushedThrough more-than-veins.Beauty remainsThough bodies rot. The fang(Though flesh the pangTo flesh deliver)Strikes down more deepThan flesh, to troubleEven the ultimate sleep,The eternal dream.Though all she seemTo be, like a golden bubbleShall break at the prick of Death,This shall not break:Her beauty’s sting: sharp as the sting of a snake:The sting of Beauty failing not with breath.

Herbody’s glory is a golden snakeAround Life’s treeCoiled: the tree shall breakIn the blast of EternityAnd the coil be crushed.Too late! immortal poison has rushedThrough more-than-veins.Beauty remainsThough bodies rot. The fang(Though flesh the pangTo flesh deliver)Strikes down more deepThan flesh, to troubleEven the ultimate sleep,The eternal dream.Though all she seemTo be, like a golden bubbleShall break at the prick of Death,This shall not break:Her beauty’s sting: sharp as the sting of a snake:The sting of Beauty failing not with breath.

Herbody’s glory is a golden snakeAround Life’s treeCoiled: the tree shall breakIn the blast of EternityAnd the coil be crushed.

Herbody’s glory is a golden snake

Around Life’s tree

Coiled: the tree shall break

In the blast of Eternity

And the coil be crushed.

Too late! immortal poison has rushedThrough more-than-veins.Beauty remainsThough bodies rot. The fang(Though flesh the pangTo flesh deliver)Strikes down more deepThan flesh, to troubleEven the ultimate sleep,The eternal dream.

Too late! immortal poison has rushed

Through more-than-veins.

Beauty remains

Though bodies rot. The fang

(Though flesh the pang

To flesh deliver)

Strikes down more deep

Than flesh, to trouble

Even the ultimate sleep,

The eternal dream.

Though all she seemTo be, like a golden bubbleShall break at the prick of Death,This shall not break:Her beauty’s sting: sharp as the sting of a snake:The sting of Beauty failing not with breath.

Though all she seem

To be, like a golden bubble

Shall break at the prick of Death,

This shall not break:

Her beauty’s sting: sharp as the sting of a snake:

The sting of Beauty failing not with breath.


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