Why did I have thee slain? Herodias' desire,
John; yea, I loved thee! They made me at the feast
Dance, and the dance set all my limbs on fire,
As, naked in the fashion of a beast,
I being girdled with all my precious stones
Around my thighs and here between my breasts,
Glittering with the untold glory of my zones.
Painted and perfumed, heedless of the guests,
The dance being done, I sat beside the King;
I saw the Heavens above, the Hells that lift
Their heads; so, Herod at me wondering,
Said, "Salome, ask of me what thou wilt, thy gift,
My gift, shall be thine own." And so I went
To Herodias in her chamber flushed with wine,
And she embraced me, passionate of my scent;
And said: The head of John the Baptist, thine,
If thou but ask of Herod!" And I returned
And sat beside him and said: "I charge thee, King,
Thou givest me" The heart within me burned,
My passionate heart, thinking of no such thing
As what Death is and life; I forgot my words,
Knowing that something said: "Yea, John must die!
And as I heard the wind-blown songs of birds,
I said: " The head of John; yea, by and by,
On something golden." So, for his oath's sake,
Me he dared not reject. How my heart beat,
Row my heart beat, O John! Some words he spake
To, the Executioner, who went. Ah, the intense heat
That swooned around me: Moons! They gave me wine;
There was an universal hush of all men's breath:
What hour was it? I think it sounded nine,
The Headsman brought thine head that reeked of Death.
