| RIGID sleeps the house in darkness, I alone | |
| Like a thing unwarrantable cross the hall | |
| And climb the stairs to find the group of doors | |
| Standing angel-stern and tall. | |
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| I want my own rooms shelter. But what is this | 5 |
| Throng of startled beings suddenly thrown | |
| In confusion against my entry? Is it only the trees | |
| Large shadows from the outside street lamp blown? | |
| |
| Phantom to phantom leaning; strange women weep | |
| Aloud, suddenly on my mind | 10 |
| Startling a fear unspeakable, as the shuddering wind | |
| Breaks and sobs in the blind. | |
| |
| So like to women, tall strange women weeping! | |
| Why continually do they cross the bed? | |
| Why does my soul contract with unnatural fear? | 15 |
| I am listening! Is anything said? | |
| |
| Ever the long black figures swoop by the bed; | |
| They seem to be beckoning, rushing away, and beckoning. | |
| Whither then, whither, what is it, say | |
| What is the reckoning. | 20 |
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| Tall black Bacchae of midnight, why then, why | |
| Do you rush to assail me? | |
| Do I intrude on your rites nocturnal? | |
| What should it avail me? | |
| |
| Is there some great Iacchos of these slopes | 25 |
| Suburban dismal? | |
| Have I profaned some female mystery, orgies | |
| Black and phantasmal? | |