98 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
THE TWINS 
 
I 
Have pity !  show no pity !   
 Those eyes that send such shivers 
  Into my brain and spine :  oh let them 
Flame like the ancient city 
 Swallowed up by the sulphurous rivers 
  When men let angels fret them !   
 
II 
Yea !  let the South wind blow, 
 And the Turkish banners advance, 
  And the word go out :  No quarter !   
But I shall hold thee—so 
 While the boys and maidens dance 
  About the shambles of slaughter ! 
 
III 
I know thee who thou art, 
 The inmost fiend that curlest 
  Thy vampire tongue about 
Earth’s corybantic heart, 
 Hell’s warrior that whirlest 
  The darts of horror and doubt !