Mystery

 Now I am all
One bowl of kisses,
Such as the tall
Slim votaresses
Of Egypt filled
For a God's excesses.


I lift to you
My bowl of kisses,
And through the temple's
Blue recesses
Cry out to you
In wild caresses.


And to my lips'
Bright crimson rim
The passion slips,
And down my slim
White body drips
The shining hymn.


And still before
The altar I
Exult the bowl
Brimful, and cry
To you to stoop
And drink, Most High.


Oh drink me up
That I may be
Within your cup
Like a Mystery,
Like wine that is still
In ecstasy.


Glimmering still
In ecstasy,
Commingled wines
Of you and me
In One fulfill,.
.
.

The Mystery.

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