With its lustre but disturbing
Silent birds, the night's black shadows,
That on helmets, shields and crosses
Settled self, at twilight's falling.
Bolder grew the searching moonbeams
With the shadows' play on ceiling,
On the floor and 'tween the windows
And with full light filled refect'ry
'luminating here long tables,
Rows of chairs and massive pulpit,
Even someone's skull, close-shaven,
Yonder in a corner ling'ring,
Heavily o'er goblet bending.
Thus aroused from heavy musings,
Grand master his forehead lifted,
Looked about the long, dark chamber
And then emptying his goblet
Once again his dull eyes fastened
At the goblet's clear-drained bottom.
Whirl of thoughts his head disturbed now,
As a shadow 'cross the mosaics,
Or as clouds on skies in summer.
Queerest dreams and queerest visions
Threw their net about his being.
He knew not what had beset him,
Whether past days' fleeting mem'ry,
Whether unknown grief's forebodings.
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