Page:Studies in Song - Swinburne (1880).djvu/155

 With more than winter's and more poisonous cold The horror of his kingdom toward the north, The deserts of his kingdom toward the east. And though death hide not in her direful hold Be all stars adverse toward her that come forth Nightly, by day all hours till all have ceased:

Till all have ceased for ever, and the sum Be summed of all the sumless curses told Out on his head by all dark seasons rolled Over its cursed and crowned existence, dumb And blind and stark as though the snows made numb All sense within it, and all conscience cold, That hangs round hearts of less imperial mould Like a snake feeding till their doomsday come.