Page:Dreams and Images.djvu/127

 And he who breathes it, him it feeds, And stirs his heart to noble deeds; And one has said, "He is not dead—     "Ave Maria, Ave Maria!" His life has just begun!"

THE DARK ANGEL

Dark Angel, with thine aching lust To rid the world of penitence: Malicious Angel, who still dost My soul such subtile violence!

Because of thee, no thought, no thing, Abides for me undesecrate: Dark Angel, ever on the wing, Who never reachest me too late!

When music sounds, then changest thou Its silvery to a sultry fire: Nor will thine envious heart allow Delight untortured by desire.

Through thee, the gracious Muses turn To Furies, O mine Enemy! And all the things of beauty burn With flames of evil ecstasy.

Because of thee, the land of dreams Becomes a gathering place of fears: Until tormented slumber seems One vehemence of useless tears.