Page:Betelguese, a trip through hell.djvu/94

86 Erelong the air shakes with a roar—

Forebodings of souls on Death's dome!

Bright cyphers spell the new-damnéd name

In letters 'gainst a leprous home:

Oaths peel like the hammer of Thor—

The screaming thing is flayed to bone!

Its sins—an outraged Body's shame—

Laid bare as whipcords dye the foam,

Whereon nepheloid imps and night,

Soom on with tidings of a moan,

Of dews, and whisper'd groans and sighs.

And, as vague forms writhe in despair,

A native in phantastic dight

Stills Torture's hold in weazened tone,

Black incense lifts its wand and flies

To haunts where mattoids rave and swear.

Where figent gawks sken at a gnome,

Decked in byssin and beads of gold;

And glozing jinn on a scree's height,

That leer as geysers boil and flow,