Ii

Gloom and the night are thine: On the face of thy mirror darkness and terror, The smoke of thy blood, the frost of thy breath.

In silence and woful awe Thy harrying angels of death Destroy whate'er thou makest-- Makest, destroyest, destroyest and makest. Thy gems of life thou dost squander, Their virginal beauty givest to plunder, Doomest to uttermost regions of age-long ice To starve and expire: Consumest with glance of fire, Or back to confusion shakest With earthquake, elemental storm and thunder.