Page:The Poetical Works of William Motherwell, 1849.djvu/147



in my chamber! Again at my bed! With thy smile sweet as sunshine, And hand cold as lead! I know thee, I know thee!— Nay, start not, my sweet! These golden robes shrank up, And showed me thy feet; These golden robes shrank up, And taffety thin, While out crept the symbols Of Death and of Sin!

Bright, beautiful devil! Pass, pass from me now; F or the damp dew of death Gathers thick on my brow; And bind up thy girdle, Nor beauties disclose, More dazzlingly white Than the wreath-drifted snows: