Page:Betelguese, a trip through hell.djvu/81

Rh Flit spastic breath to regions wide

And shrood each shrunken soul with gloom.

Where glozing parasites hold sway,

Seek rivers dry reveal the bones

Of ages that the Cyclops slew:

Onyx thrones that the Titans storm'd

Lie in obfuscating decay;

Eyeless skulls that abhorrent gnomes

Wield in hands that reek with the dew

That solemn Death in tombs hath worm'd,

Stare at the scene as willows sigh:

And tapers of the Mount's crown'd witch

(Whenas each carcant fades from view)

Seek shadows that the tombs have cast

Upon the conjured, wind blown sky,

Where Syrian altar-lamps make rich

The palace-domes whereon the dew

Sits like a star and beams upon the vast,

Phantasmagoric glory of Death,

Of godly helms housed in a crypt.

And where a livid beacon flares—