Page:The city of dreadful night - and other poems (IA cityofdreadfulni00thomrich).pdf/30

 As I came through the desert thus it was, As I came through the desert: When the tide Swept up to her there kneeling by my side, She clasped that corpse-like me, and they were borne Away, and this vile me was left forlorn; I know the whole sea cannot quench that heart, Or cleanse that brow, or wash those two apart: They love; their doom is drear, Yet they nor hope nor fear; But I, what do I here?

How he arrives there none can clearly know; Athwart the mountains and immense wild tracts, Or flung a waif upon that vast sea-flow, Or down the river's boiling cataracts: To reach it is as dying fever-stricken To leave it, slow faint birth intense pangs quicken; And memory swoons in both the tragic acts.

But being there one feels a citizen; Escape seems hopeless to the heart forlorn: Can Death-in-Life be brought to life again? And yet release does come; there comes a morn