Classic Poem

Last night I kissed you with a brutal might
Whereof clanged echoes hunt me from my rest.
And bitter on my lips that fierce delight
Lingers, and bitter the pressure of your breast.
I am shaken, still, by the tumult of that hour
Before the dawn, when in some traitor-mood
You, upon whom love's beauty kept no power,
Lay vanquished by love's sensual habitude.
And ere the cock-crow you denied us thrice,
Being sure that all our daring dreams had lied.
Like an arc of fire then leaped my sacrifice,
My kiss of hate on the lips that had denied, —
A gift of the flesh, since the soul you dared not meet.
And I longed that my kiss should strike you dead at my feet.