Had shivered and torments had grated
Hoarse iron deep under; and words
As of sins that howled out and awaited
A fiend who lashed into their hords,
And a demon who lacerated.

And I shriek and lie clammy and stark,
As the curse of a devil mounts higher,
Up--out of damnation and dark,
Up--a hobble of hoofs that is dire;
I feel that his mouth is a spark,
His features, of filth and of fire.

"To thy body's corruption, thy grave!
Thy hell! from which thou hast stolen!"
And a blackness rolls down like a wave
With a clamor of tongues that are swollen--
And I feel that my flesh is the slave
Of a--vampire, diakka, eidolon?

DEATH IN LIFE.

Within my veins it beats
And burns within my brain;
For when the year is sad and sear
I dream the dream again.

Ah! over young am I
God knows! yet in this sleep
More pain and woe than women know
I know, and doubly deep!...

Seven towers of shaggy rock
Rise red to ragged skies,
Built in a marsh that, black and harsh,
To dead horizons lies.

Eternal sunset pours,
Around its warlock towers,
A glowing urn where garnets burn
With fire-dripping flowers.

O'er bat-like turrets high,
Stretched in a scarlet line,
The crimson cranes through rosy rains
Drop like a ruby wine.

Once in the banquet-hall
These scarlet storks are heard:--
I sit at board with men o' th' sword
And knights of noble word;

Cased all in silver mail;
But he, I love and fear,
In glittering gold beside me bold
Sits like a lover near.

Wild music echoes in
The hollow towers there;
Behind bright bars o' his visor, stars
Beam in his eyes and glare.

Wild music oozes from
Arched ceilings, caked with white
Groined pearl; and floors like mythic shores
That sing to seas of light.

Wild music and a feast,
And one's beloved near
In burning mail--why am I pale,
So pale with grief and fear?

Red heavens and slaughter-red
The marsh to west and east;
Seven slits of sky, seven casements high,
Flare on the blood-red feast.

Our torches tall are these,
Our revel torches seven,
That spill from