Lachrymae Christi Whitely, while benzine Rinsings from the moon Dissolve all but the windows of the mills (Inside the sure machinery Is still And curdled only where a sill Sluices its one unyielding smile) Immaculate venom binds The fox’s teeth, and swart Thorns freshen on the year’s First blood. From flanks unfended, Twanged red perfidies of spring Are trillion on the hill. And the nights opening Chant pyramids,– Anoint with innocence,–recall To music and retrieve what perjuries Had galvanized the eyes. While chime Beneath and all around Distilling clemencies,–worms’ Inaudible whistle, tunneling Not penitence But song, as these Perpetual fountains, vines,– Thy Nazarene and tinder eyes. (Let sphinxes from the ripe Borage of death have cleared my tongue Once again; vermin and rod No…