In ancient Greek mythology, Mormo (Greek: Μορμώ, Μορμών, Mormō) was a spirit who ate bad children, said to have been a companion of the goddess Hecate. Used to signify a vampire-like creature in stories told to Greek children by their nurses to keep them from misbehaving.
Incarnate devil in a talking snake, The central plains of Asia in his garden, In shaping-time the circle stung awake, In shapes of sin forked out the bearded apple, And God walked there who was a fiddling warden And played down pardon from the heavens' hill.
When we were strangers to the guided seas, A handmade moon half holy in a cloud, The wisemen tell me that the garden gods Twined good and evil on an eastern tree; And when the moon rose windily it was Black as the beast and paler than the cross.
We in our Eden knew the secret guardian In sacred waters that no frost could harden, And in the mighty mornings of the earth; Hell in a horn of sulphur and the cloven myth, All heaven in the midnight of the sun, A serpent fiddled in the shaping-time.
The fire of love was burning, yet so low That in the dark we scarce could see its rays, And in the light of perfect-placid days Nothing but smouldering embers dull and slow. Vainly, for love's delight, we sought to throw New pleasures on the pyre to make it blaze: In life's calm air and tranquil-prosperous ways We missed the radiant heat of long ago.
Then in the night, a night of sad alarms, Bitter with pain and black with fog of fears, That drove us trembling to each other's arms -- Across the gulf of darkness and salt tears, Into life's calm the wind of sorrow came, And fanned the fire of love to clearest flame.
ON the twilight-burnished hills I lie and long and gaze Where below the grey-lipped sands drink in the flowing tides, Drink, and fade and disappear: interpreting their ways A seer in my heart abides.
Once the diamond dancing day-waves laved thy thirsty lips: Now they drink the dusky night-tide running cold and fleet, Drink, and as the chilly brilliance o’er their pallor slips They fade in the touch they meet.
Wave on wave of pain where leaped of old the billowy joys: Hush and still thee now unmoved to drink the bitter sea, Drink with equal heart: be brave; and life with laughing voice And death will be one for thee.
Ere my mortal days pass by and life in the world be done, Oh, to know what world shall rise within the spirit’s ken When it grows into the peace where light and dark are one! What voice for the world of men?
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