Gargoyles

Also the taste of dust long dead Of ancient queens corrupt and fair Struck through the temple, subtly sped By demons dominant of the air. Last, on the flesh there came a touch Like sucking mouths and stroking hands That laid their foul alluring smutch Even to the blood’s mad sarabands. So did the neophyte that would gaze Into dead Pharaoh’s awful eyes Start from incalculable amaze To clutch the initiate’s place and prize. He bore the blistering thought aloft: It blazed in battle on his plume: With sage and warrior enfeoffed, He rushed alone through tower and tomb. The myriad men, the cohorts armed, Are shred like husks: the ensanguine brand 80