VIII
Ah! if flesh fails, may we not also fail?
May not the vulture liars gather round
Our death-beds, and drone out their dismal tale
With drawl and whine, the Galilean sound
Of snuffle and twang? May not their stinking souls
Interpret our last sighs as penitence
When we close up the coruscating scrolls
Of our life's joy, seal up the jar of sense
To broach the starry flagon—splendid spilth?
These creeping cravens shall be circumvented;
They shall not belch their flatulence and filth
On us, or tell the world that we repented.
Come, as we strained it, let us break the tether
In the last luxury—to die together!
May not the vulture liars gather round
Our death-beds, and drone out their dismal tale
With drawl and whine, the Galilean sound
Of snuffle and twang? May not their stinking souls
Interpret our last sighs as penitence
When we close up the coruscating scrolls
Of our life's joy, seal up the jar of sense
To broach the starry flagon—splendid spilth?
These creeping cravens shall be circumvented;
They shall not belch their flatulence and filth
On us, or tell the world that we repented.
Come, as we strained it, let us break the tether
In the last luxury—to die together!
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