Page:An epic of women and other poems (IA epicofwomenother00osha).pdf/136

Invisible—in supernatural haze,
Of shapes that seem not shapes to human gaze—
  The devils were half awed as they did stand
Around her; each one in his separate hell
All inwardly was forced to praise her well:
  And every man was fain to lose his hand
  Or do all that sweet woman might command.

There was a tumult.—Cloven foot and scale
Of fiend with iron heel and coat of mail
  Were rolled and hustled in the rage to slay
That fair young Saviour: when they murdered him
And brought his head, still beautiful—though dim
  And drenched with blood—the aureole did play
  Above it, slowly vanishing away.

I weep to think of him and his fair light
So quenched—of him thrust into some long night
  Of unaccomplishment so soon, alas!
And Thou, who on that ancient palace floor
Didst dance, where dost thou writhe now evermore—
  Salome, Daughter of Herodias?
  O woman-viper—may thy curse ne'er pass!