On Whom The Moon Doth Shine - Theatre Of Tragedy

«O soft embalmer of ye still midnight

Allow me thee to adown

Of any sort thou fancieth;

Each holdeth its own fancy, I say —

Yet the pleasure we partake in

Was caus’d by the fang’d grin

Save!, do I for him anger hold?

Nay — I knew I was fey!»

«Had I what it taketh I would do;

I sense — I cannot sense

I am — yet!

I am not —

Once I kiss’d the image

Of the Seven Angels of Death…»

«Yet as thou so didst

On my lips a kiss landéd

And with the shadows blendéd

The tendermost silken mourn;

In which the light hidden is —

Yon Hell’s brazen doors

Wrothfully it trieth to push.»

«Then, lo!

the Black Death

Serpent-like 'twixt the breasts crept;

Hush’d with a gasp of life’s breath

„Hush'd with a gasp of life’s breath

Together red tears they wept

Together red tears we wept — in vain

And pass’d the procession of dancers dead —

And pass’d the procession of dancers dead —

As in darkness were we lock’d in wed.“

As in darkness were we lock’d in wed;

I kiss’d the Seven Angels of Death.»

«And Hell open’d its doors

Yet what was 'fore my eyes

„Yet what was 'fore my eyes

But if not the brightest light.“

But if not the brightest light.»