a fate as this,
Have ye no vision of that doom's decision? Have ye no ear for rattle or
for hiss?
Salammbô's craving, morbid and enslaving, was sanity compared with your
mad love,
As well the swallow the fierce shrike might follow,
Or hawk be chased by dove!

Tantalus' gold is all such Lamias hold; 'tis Devil's dice such Mammon
vassals throw;
A sordid fever fires each fool-believer in the gross glitter, the unholy
glow.
Vile is your Dagon! Circe's venomed flagon embruted less than doth the
Lamia's wine,
Than Comus' cup more perilous to sup--
As snakes are worse than swine.

The poet's snake enchanted, who so flaunted her borrowed robes amidst the
daffodils,
Hath piteous touches. She, from Fate's clutches, free some brief space,
"escaped from so sore ills,"
Moves our compassion. But this modern fashion of Snake Enchanter looks
unlovely all.
Greed's inspiration its sole fascination.
Low selfishness its thrall.

"A Serpent!" So the Sophist murmured low, and "LYCIUS' arms were empty of
delight,"
LAMIA had fled! Would that some sage cool head, some modern APOLLONIUS,
with the might