"Ah me! Alas, pain, pain, ever, for ever!" [Percy Bysshe Shelley]
O' mighty Night
Echoes, fauns and furies
Of that colossal wreck, boundless to bare
Onward charges the Beast
Adorn'd with golden shrines vested empty
All creatures forlorn and thunder
Breathing in horrors charm'd
Capriciously still on disharmonies enow
Of the hideous nebulosity to tempest
Lightning strikes at the fury of thunder
At malice's own resplendent nest
The crystallid lake that springs nether
Of fire and horrors too many
Abominable and gorgonic theatre
Pain that immeasurably be
By the scythe striked at thee
The spring breathes horrors
Alas O' mighty Night
Onward to the burning lake
Of rage inflam'd and darkness whelmed
Like staring in Death's wake
With sharpn'd teeth sighed
As the spring breathes horrors
Lie fallen and vanquished!
And darken
The Heaven's above
Behold!
Could the abysm vomit it's secrets
From the dim recesses
Of woven caresses
Thou fair hair'd angel of the evening,
Scatter thy abyssic dew
And wash the dusk with silver
Soon, full soon, dost thou withdraw; when the wolf rages wide,
O' damned! clad in purest black, issue forth;
O radiant moon, salute the stars
The wild winds weep and the Night is a-cold;
But lo! To the vault of paved Heaven
With howling woe
Hail to those horrors thee sprang
Salute the scythe's blade in blood drunk
With the glamorous melodies the warfare sang
As abhorred light has now sunk
A gazer at the darkness that shines above
Bleeding along the firmament
The moonbeam dropp'd
In ecstasy sent
Beneath the stars the spring unmov'd
The creeping wild flowers
Thus mingled their eerie shade
In horrors breathing
Fullfilling emptyness been made
And wondering in horrors her's
Alas, O' Night old Night
Brethen and fed on the bleeding firmament
With a thousend horrors
"And I, what can I now behold but an eternal Death before my eyes,
and an eternal weary work to strive
against the monstrous forms that breed among my silent waves?" [William Blake]