 | The book of the dead |  |
34
[XV. The moon sails up the mottled sky]
The moon sails up the mottled sky,
Half hidden in a fleecy shroud,
And from the east, with sword on high,
Orion plunges through the cloud.
Half hidden in a fleecy shroud,
And from the east, with sword on high,
Orion plunges through the cloud.
The west is clear. One solemn star
Looks at its image in the wave:
The star seems very sad and far;
It bends above my loved one's grave.
Looks at its image in the wave:
The star seems very sad and far;
It bends above my loved one's grave.
Was that a rushing of the wind,
A noise of beasts, a shriek for aid,
Or cry of vampires, fury-blind,
That hunger where my dead is laid?
A noise of beasts, a shriek for aid,
Or cry of vampires, fury-blind,
That hunger where my dead is laid?
Forth through the moonlight, towards the glow
Of yon lone star, I take my way;
And at thy hillock bending low,
I sing to thee a tender lay.
Of yon lone star, I take my way;
And at thy hillock bending low,
I sing to thee a tender lay.
35
The vampires' howl was fierce and high;
It sinks to silence, and they flit
Back to their noisome dens, while I
Make a faint music where I sit.
It sinks to silence, and they flit
Back to their noisome dens, while I
Make a faint music where I sit.
| The book of the dead | |