Page:Betelguese, a trip through hell.djvu/34

26 Then cosmic force forsakes each dale: 'Mis Cyclopean pulse of hell

Giant cauldrons vomit vapours green

And skirr thro' bristling lanes and halls: Whilst beacons die and shrood each soul,

Dank tears drop on a fatal bell,

Wrought by a Titan's sombre queen,

Where graven vypers soop the walls

With blood from maidens scourged as toll.

Sentinel silence then holds gloom! Vile squats curse roaring pools inflame,

A swarthy gump leers at the damn'd,

A sultry storm invades each realm.

Reared in incondite depths of doom

As shadows spell each sinner's name,

A Necromancer mounts a stand

That storms and sleet struck with their helm,

And smites the weird elements.

A cesspool stunn'd with offal's stench,

And ulexite—Each mattoid's curse!