Yet who the hell was I to dare?

Lorelei,

Canst thou not see thou to me needful art?

Canst thou not see the loss of loe painful is?

Perchance author I thee this ikon'd apologue for aught,

Doth the wecht burthen thee?, then bethink thine afterthought:

'Tween Æther and 'Nether art thou the peerless phœnix -

Prithee, darlingmost! - court me rather than the peevish

prolix.

Theatre Of Tragedy - On Whom The Moon Doth Shine

-- "O soft embalmer of ye still midnight,

-- Allow me thee to adown,

-- Of any sort thou fancieth;

-- Each holdeth its own fancy, I say -

-- Yet the pleasure we partake in

-- Was caus'd by the fang'd grin,

-- Save!, do I for him anger hold?

-- Nay - I knew I was fey!"

"Had I what it taketh I would do;

I sense - I cannot sense,

I am - yet! I am not -

Once I kiss'd the image

Of the Seven Angels of Death..."

-- "Yet as thou so didst,

-- On my lips a kiss landéd,

-- And with the shadows blendéd

-- The tendermost silken mourn;

-- In which the light hidden is -

-- Yon Hell's brazen doors

-- Wrothfully it trieth to push."

"Then, lo! the Black Death,

Serpent-like 'twixt the breasts crept;

Hush'd with a gasp of life's breath, -- "Hush'd with a gasp of

life's breath,

Together red tears they wept, -- Together red tears we wept - in

vain,

And pass'd the procession of dancers dead - -- And pass'd the

procession of dancers dead -

As in darkness were we lock'd in wed." -- As in darkness were we

lock'd in wed;

-- I kiss'd the Seven Angels of Death."

"And Hell open'd its doors,

Yet what was 'fore my eyes -- "Yet what was 'fore my eyes

But if not the brightest light." -- But if not the brightest

light."