Page:Betelguese, a trip through hell.djvu/108

100 And when a dim, unholy tomb,

Wreathes odours damp and vapours strong—

Heirs of the Doomed! as savage domes

Drip palsied sweat and carnal howls

Assail the stationed halls of gloom,

Where imps and devils march along

Beside a monarch's crumbling bones

As witches don their filthy cowls

And rant their sins thro' whistling halls,

Shake women fists at fleeing souls

And wail for bâtard children dead;

Whilst quickly from the burning dust

Ascends an oath that storms the walls

And rasps the distant mounts and shoals

Until each pyre glows scarlet red,

Each idol leers with wicked lust.

Forth from rubies flare scented fumes

As beacons glare and bubbles hiss

To crimson strands and altars' glow

Of burning oils in carvels deep,

Where; when Torture's bloody dome looms