63
The Demon Lady.
Again in my chamber!
Again at my bed!
With thy smile sweet as sunshine,
And hand cold as lead!
I know thee, I know thee!—
Nay, start not, my sweet!
These golden robes shrank up,
And showed me thy feet;
These golden robes shrank up,
And taffety thin,
While out crept the symbols
Of Death and of Sin!
Bright, beautiful devil!
Pass, pass from me now;
F or the damp dew of death
Gathers thick on my brow;
And bind up thy girdle,
Nor beauties disclose,
More dazzlingly white
Than the wreath-drifted snows:
