Mummia

As those of old drank mummia     To fire their limbs of lead,     Making dead kings from Africa     Stand pandar to their bed;     Drunk on the dead, and medicined     With spiced imperial dust,     In a short night they reeled to find     Ten centuries of lust.     So I, from paint, stone, tale, and rhyme,     Stuffed love's infinity,     And sucked all lovers of all time     To rarify ecstasy.     Helen's the hair shuts out from me     Verona's livid skies;     Gypsy the lips I press; and see     Two Antonys in your eyes.     The unheard invisible lovely dead     Lie with us in this place,     And ghostly hands above my head     Close face to straining face;     Their blood is wine along our limbs;     Their whispering voices wreathe     Savage forgotten drowsy hymns     Under the names we breathe;     Woven from their tomb, and one with it,     The night wherein we press;     Their thousand pitchy pyres have lit     Your flaming nakedness.     For the uttermost years have cried and clung     To kiss your mouth to mine;     And hair long dust was caught, was flung,     Hand shaken to hand divine,     And Life has fired, and Death not shaded,     All Time's uncounted bliss,     And the height o' the world has flamed and faded,     Love, that our love be this!