THE MEDUSA OF DESPAIRI may not mask forever with the graceOf woven flow’rs thine eyes of staring stone:Ere fatally I front thee, fully knownThe guarded horror of thy haggard face,Thy visage carven from the heart long deadOf some white, frozen star; ere thou astoundMy life to thine own likeness, and confound—Depart, and curse more kindred things instead:Triumphant, through what realms of elder doomWhere even the swart vans of Time are stunned,Seek thou some fit, Cimmerian citadel,And mighty cities, desolate, unsunned,Whose walls of horrent and enormous gloomMake sharp the horizon of the light of hell!
I may not mask forever with the graceOf woven flow’rs thine eyes of staring stone:Ere fatally I front thee, fully knownThe guarded horror of thy haggard face,Thy visage carven from the heart long deadOf some white, frozen star; ere thou astoundMy life to thine own likeness, and confound—Depart, and curse more kindred things instead:Triumphant, through what realms of elder doomWhere even the swart vans of Time are stunned,Seek thou some fit, Cimmerian citadel,And mighty cities, desolate, unsunned,Whose walls of horrent and enormous gloomMake sharp the horizon of the light of hell!
I may not mask forever with the graceOf woven flow’rs thine eyes of staring stone:Ere fatally I front thee, fully knownThe guarded horror of thy haggard face,Thy visage carven from the heart long deadOf some white, frozen star; ere thou astoundMy life to thine own likeness, and confound—Depart, and curse more kindred things instead:Triumphant, through what realms of elder doomWhere even the swart vans of Time are stunned,Seek thou some fit, Cimmerian citadel,And mighty cities, desolate, unsunned,Whose walls of horrent and enormous gloomMake sharp the horizon of the light of hell!
I may not mask forever with the graceOf woven flow’rs thine eyes of staring stone:Ere fatally I front thee, fully knownThe guarded horror of thy haggard face,Thy visage carven from the heart long deadOf some white, frozen star; ere thou astoundMy life to thine own likeness, and confound—Depart, and curse more kindred things instead:
I may not mask forever with the grace
Of woven flow’rs thine eyes of staring stone:
Ere fatally I front thee, fully known
The guarded horror of thy haggard face,
Thy visage carven from the heart long dead
Of some white, frozen star; ere thou astound
My life to thine own likeness, and confound—
Depart, and curse more kindred things instead:
Triumphant, through what realms of elder doomWhere even the swart vans of Time are stunned,Seek thou some fit, Cimmerian citadel,And mighty cities, desolate, unsunned,Whose walls of horrent and enormous gloomMake sharp the horizon of the light of hell!
Triumphant, through what realms of elder doom
Where even the swart vans of Time are stunned,
Seek thou some fit, Cimmerian citadel,
And mighty cities, desolate, unsunned,
Whose walls of horrent and enormous gloom
Make sharp the horizon of the light of hell!