When Incubi reigned with a rod.
Unnumberéd bones adorn each dell—
Where Rulers lie there stands a bust;
Blood-stainéd the hands of him whose task
Is blasting varlets like a god.
And when some spirit stalks thro' space
In quest of vaults—Temporal lees!
Treads in the grandeur of dank hell,
A batter'd shape that shakes its frame,
Spacious regions Courage chase,
Winds drive it to Misery's seas,
Laughs ascend from sequesteréd well,
Thro' shadows vague it hears its shame.
And tomb-thrown groans and sighs we hear—
Tho' midnight's near and afrite's sleep:
An Owl, perturbéd at some strange sound,
Scares bats in space and wings for domes.
All signs of woe hath flown with fear,
No maidens heave their breasts and weep,
All wrecks of Flesh lie on the ground,
Removed from shoals where Terror moans.
