| The Succubus... Robert Graves... |
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Thus will disappear In ecstacy of nightmare Fetch you a devil-woman through the air, To slide below the sweated sheet And kiss your lips in answer to your prayer And lock her hands with yours and your feet with her feet. |
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Yet why does she Come never as longed-for beauty Slender and cool, with limbs lovely to see, (The bedside candle guttering high) And toss her head so the thick curls fall free Of halo'd breast, firm belly and long slender thigh? |
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Why with hot face, With paunched and uddered carcase, Sudden and greedily does she embrace, Gulping awat your soul, she lies so close, Fathering you with brats of her own race? Yet is the fancy grosser than your lusts were gross? |
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