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 | The poems of Madison Cawein |  |
253
SIN
There is a legend of an old Hartz towerThat tells of one, a noble, who had sold
His soul unto the Fiend; who grew not old
On this condition: that the Demon's power
Cease every midnight for a single hour,
And, in that hour, his body should lie cold
With limbs up-shriveled, and with face, behold!
Shrunk to a death's-head in the taper's glower.—
So unto Sin Life gives his best. Her arts
Make all his outward seeming beautiful
Before the world; but in his heart of hearts
Abides an hour when her strength is null;
When he shall feel the death through all his parts
Strike, and his countenance become a skull.
| The poems of Madison Cawein | |