Chapter XXVII: Sub-Consciousness

Sometimes as Martha suddenly stood amazed By Mary's mystic eyes, and sometimes as That very dreamer Mary might have gazed Upon the Daughter of Herodias, The conscious Soul that other Soul discovers, The strange idolator who still regrets Golden Osiris, Tammuz lord of lovers, Attis the sad white god of violets. In jasper caves she lies behind her veils; And jars of spice, and gilded ears of corn, And wine-red roses and rose-red wine-grails Feed her long trances while the far flutes mourn. She lies and dreams daemonic passionate things: Cherubim guard her gates with monstrous wings.