Archive for February 4th, 2019

Monday, 4 February 2019

The Infant Medusa by Thomas Gordon Hake

By Poseidon

I loved Medusa when she was a child,
Her rich brown tresses heaped in crispy curl
Where now those locks with reptile passion whirl,
By hate into dishevelled serpents coiled.
I loved Medusa when her eyes were mild,
Whose glances, narrowed now, perdition hurl,
As her self-tangled hairs their mass unfurl,
Bristling the way she turns with hissings wild.

Her mouth I kissed when curved with amorous spell,
Now shaped to the unuttered curse of hell,
Wide open for death’s orbs to freeze upon;
Her eyes I loved ere glazed in icy stare,
Ere mortals, lured into their ruthless glare,
She shrivelled in her gaze to pulseless stone.

From: Hake, Thomas Gordon, The Poems of Thomas Gordon Hake selected with a Prefatory Note by Alice Meynell and a Portrait by Dante Gabriel Rosetti, 1894, Elkin Mathews and John Lane: London, p. 28.
(https://archive.org/details/cu31924013476928/)

Date: 1887

By: Thomas Gordon Hake (1809-1895)

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