Page:Betelguese, a trip through hell.djvu/30

22 To curse each vyper's bloody dream,

Each mongrel and forsaken man.

Then quivers that cippus' hurl'd

As templéd vaults are splinter'd wide;

And fearful fancies cleave the night

When reeking gores pierce hollows black,

Smite vandals that in sleep are curl'd:

And naiads that the vapours hide

In shadows vague—Unholy light!

(Spectres to each soul on a wrack)

Dank caverns of each vaulted soul

With spiral thoughts of feveréd haste,

'Mid the throb of murderous life

In haunted zones of vandals gyte,

Squirm at the pulse of this blind shoal

Where blood-veinéd dreams and acrid waste

Cut thro' the senses like a knife

And bid Icarian Thought to sit

Below a bleak, untower'd home,

Where fagots that the skelp hath stunned— Plunderers of unfathomed night!