Page:Satanella (1932).pdf/73

 Just like this, a flock of ravens

Noiselessly, with black wings flying,

Sweeps across a snow decked country.

Without rustle was his footstep

And his body without shadows.

Ere in fright the old grand-master

Reached down for his scapulary,

Quietly sat at the table

Dreadful quest of this late hour,

Took a goblet off the table,

Filled it with a wine of crimson

And then spoke, voice softly gliding

As a snake through grass is creeping,

As a rustling wind that whispers

O'er a lone tomb's withered garland:

"Long the night, what say, my brother,

Raise your cup, let's drink together!

Long the night and endless, endless

As the sea of human sorrows."

Gazing with a lifeless vision,

Prelate raised his sparkling goblet,

Drank and thought while thus imbibing

That he swallowed burning fires.

Satan crossed his legs before him

And then fixed his piercing gazes