Classic Poem

Be what you will: be Christ, be Lucifer—
Harsh, meek, most tender, most contemptuous;
I must love you: You cannot budge me thus
Nor move the knees of your idolater
To anything less than flame. . . . Retrench, demur,
Bring all your loud alarums to nonplus—
Do what you will: make me your incubus
Or fling me over a star's white bannister!

Kiss whom you will: my mouth shall come between
His mouth and yours; give breath for breath; give cry
For cry; give up your body's white light—I
Shall take them all, my ghost shall intervene;
Even at the last when you yield your soul up
I shall contain you. I shall be the cup!