VIII
Now I have told you all the ingredients
That go to make the elixir for our shame.
Already make the fumes their spired ascents;
The bubbles burst in tiny jets of flame,
And you and I are half-intoxicated
(I hid the heart of madness in my verse)
Therewith, like Maenads ready to be mated
Before the Lod of bassara and thyrse.
Yea! we are lifted up! Crested Kithairon
Shakes his black mane of pines, and roars for prey.
Heave all his bristling flanks of barbèd iron!
Flesh thy red hunger on the bleeding day,
O fangèd night! till from thy mother maw
We wrench the lion child of wonder and awe!
That go to make the elixir for our shame.
Already make the fumes their spired ascents;
The bubbles burst in tiny jets of flame,
And you and I are half-intoxicated
(I hid the heart of madness in my verse)
Therewith, like Maenads ready to be mated
Before the Lod of bassara and thyrse.
Yea! we are lifted up! Crested Kithairon
Shakes his black mane of pines, and roars for prey.
Heave all his bristling flanks of barbèd iron!
Flesh thy red hunger on the bleeding day,
O fangèd night! till from thy mother maw
We wrench the lion child of wonder and awe!
— 26 —
