| We who run
|
| From the presence of the sun
|
| By the voided bitter gleam
|
| Chasing darkness like a dream
|
| All with weary tasks fordone
|
| Ґscape the serpents tounge
|
| To catch the shadow
|
| Let the substance fall
|
| Like the sun’s bright beam
|
| Entagled in melancholy
|
| Entagled in the black roars
|
| Of an image’s stream
|
| Put the wretch that lies in woe
|
| In rememberance of a shroud
|
| The match agreed
|
| With flames admired
|
| Now I find hideousness in mind
|
| Shall I disturb this hallowed house?
|
| I have been sent with dusk before
|
| To sweep the dust behind the door |