| Time is an abyss —
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| Profound as a thousand nights;
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| I sojourn my haste, I make respites
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| For what availeith this eager pace?
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| One step more naught to face
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| Save the heirloom fatal kiss
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| I rave no more 'gainst Time or Fate
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| For lo! |
| my own shall ne’er come to me
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| Yet! |
| — Who doth my future narrate?
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| Dim the lights — I cannot see!
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| Bring forth ye Shadow! |
| -
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| With whom danceth thou?
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| Time hath stopp’d —
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| Yet for others ne’er halteth;
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| For me the Pages of Life do not turn
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| Lo! |
| — on the funeral pyre they burn
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| The oh so eathing Velvet Darkness they fear —
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| Heed! |
| — wherefore delve a burrow
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| When in my arms «O! |
| Come here»? |
| -
|
| I say, elsewhither is naught but sorrow!
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| For what deemest thou so dear thy blood
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| When through my veins it could flood? |
| -
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| Bide to merry — make me unaptly;
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| And hence grant me the fell gift
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| The gift of passing on the dark trick
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| 'Tis such a brazen act of erotic;
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| Trifle for thee, yet for me grandly thrift
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| O! |
| such an innocence depriv’d so hastily —
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| Alas, for what deemest thou so dear thy blood
|
| When through my veins it will flood? |