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? | |
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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. | |
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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? | |
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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? | |
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Is there some great Iacchos of these slopes | 25 |
Suburban dismal? | |
Have I profaned some female mystery, orgies | |
Black and phantasmal? | |