They drew them near,
One after one, led onward by Despair,
That like the last of winter glimmer'd there,--
A dismal prologue to his brother Death,
Which was behind, and, with the horrid breath
Of his wide baneful nostrils, plied them on.
And often as they saw the skeleton
Grisly beside them, the wild phantasies
Grew mad and howl'd; the fever of disease
Became wild frenzy--very terrible!
And, for a hell of agony--a hell
Of rage, was there, that fed on misty things,
On dreams, ideas, and imaginings.
And some were raving on philosophy,
And some on love, and some on jealousy,
And some upon the moon; and these were they
That were the wildest; and anon alway
Julio knew them by a something dim
About their wasted features like to him!
But Death was by, like shell of pyramid
Among old obelisks, and his eyeless head
Shook o'er the wiery ribs, where darkness lay
The image of a heart--He is away!
And Julio is watching, like Remorse,
Over the pale and solitary corse!
Shower soft light, ye stars, that shake the dew
From your eternal blossoms! and thou, too,
Moon! minded of thy power, tide-bearing queen!
That hast a slave and votary within
The great rock-fetter'd deeps, and hearest cry
To thee the hungry surges, rushing by
Like a vast herd of wolves,--fall full and fair
On Julio as he sleepeth, even there,
Amid the suppliant bosom of the sea!--
Sleep! dost thou come, and on thy blessed knee
With hush and whisper lull the troubled brain
Of this death-lover?--Still the eyes do strain
Their orbs on Agathe--those raven eyes!
All earnest on the ladye as she lies
In her white shroud.
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