Stump electronic books

She smiled, and the odours of sandal, coreopsis,
and aloes encircled his soul like the plaited strands of her glorious
hair. She was that other Lilith, the only offspring of the old Serpent.
On what storied fresco, limned by what worshipper of Satan, had these
accursed lineaments, this lithe, seductive figure, been shown! Names of
Satanic painters, from Hell-fire Breughel to Arnold Boecklin, from
Felicien Rops to Franz Stuck, passed through the halls of Irving
Baldur's memory.
The clangour of the feast was become maddening. He heard the Venus
ballet music from Tannhaeuser entwined with the acridities of aloes,
sandal, and honeysuckle. Then the aroma of pitch, sulphur, and
assafoetida cruelly strangled the other melodic emanations. Lilith,
disdaining the shelter of her nymphs and their clowneries, stood forth
in all the hideous majesty of AEnothea, the undulating priestess of the
Abominable Shape. His nerves macerated by this sinful apparition, Baldur
struggled to resist her mute command. What was it? He saw her wish
streaming from her eyes.


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