THE TRIUMPH OF THE FLESH
by: George Moore (1852-1933)
- E have passed
from the regions of dreams and of vision
- And the flesh is the flesh and the rose is the rose;
- And we see but the absolute joy of the present
- In the Sunlight of beauty.
- I am filled with carnivorous lust: like a tiger
- I crouch and I feed on my beautiful prey:
- There is nought in the monstrous world of Astarte
- So fair as thy body.
- Let me lie, let me die on thy snow-coloured bosom,
- I would eat of thy flesh as of delicate fruit,
- I am drunk of its smell, and the scent of thy tresses
- Is as flame that devours.
- Thou art demon and God, thou art hell, thou art Heaven,
- Thou art love that is lust, thou art lust that is love,
- And I see but the heavenly grace of thy body,
- A picture--a poem.
POEMS BY GEORGE MOORE
"The Triumph of the Flesh"
is reprinted from Pagan Poems. George Moore. London: Newman,