Page:Betelguese, a trip through hell.djvu/33

Rh Invoke the ghouls to guard each tomb

That vandals of the sobbing night,

When hell-winds stir the conqueréd dead,

And thunder shook the mourner's pews,

Giant cavalcades of marshalléd Doom

March thro' the phosphorescent light

Unto the headland of the West,

Where pageantries of warriors bold

Scyle crafty sins and purple lusts

Until the peaks and portals bright,

Where buried kings are tombed at rest,

Sweat odours dank with Torpor's cold;

Infernal pæons shake the busts

Of idols planted in the light.

And, ere immewed gyres froth black mists

Unto all ghauts and splinter'd domes

That cypher signs of dungeoned dell,

A turgid dawn arrays this vale,

Each dysodile scavenger sits

On a tomb and fondles gray bones; An eyeless toad croaks from a well.