There was a graven image of Desire | |
Painted with red blood on a ground of gold | |
Passing between the young men and the old, | |
And by him Pain, whose body shone like fire, | |
And Pleasure with gaunt hands that grasped their hire. | |
Of his left wrist, with fingers clenched and cold, | |
The insatiable Satiety kept hold, | |
Walking with feet unshod that pashed the mire. | |
The senses and the sorrows and the sins, | |
10 | And the strange loves that suck the breasts of Hate |
Till lips and teeth bite in their sharp indenture, | |
Followed like beasts with flap of wings and fins. | |
Death stood aloof behind a gaping grate, | |
Upon whose lock was written Peradventure. |