The end which it does not want

On Whom The Moon Doth Shine / Theatre Of Tragedy

"O soft embalmer of ye still midnight

Allow me thee to adown

Of any sort thou fancieth;

Each holdeth its own fancy I say -

Yet the pleasure we partake in

Was caus'd by the fang'd grin

Save! do I for him anger hold?

Nay - I knew I was fey!"

"Had I what it taketh I would do;

I sense - I cannot sense

I am - yet! I am not -

Once I kiss'd the image

"Yet as thou so didst

On my lips a kiss landéd

And with the shadows blendéd

The tendermost silken mourn;

In which the light hidden is -

Yon Hell's brazen doors

Wrothfully it trieth to push"

"Then lo! the Black Death

Serpent-like 'twixt the breasts crept;

Hush'd with a gasp of life's breath

Together red tears they wept - in vain

And pass'd the procession of dancers dead -

As in darkness were we lock'd in wed"

"And Hell open'd its doors

Yet what was 'fore my eyes

But if not the brightest light"

But if not the brightest light"