Gargoyles

Spews out its hideous lust. O loathéd life! Thou nameless horror of the bestial strife Of love and hate, I straitly charge thee quit This bed of nastiness, this putrid sea; For not by any amorous tricks of wit Shalt thou regain thine empire over me. O virgin, O my sister! Hear me, death! Thou hast a sleep compelling soul and mind. Thine is the sweet insufferable breath That comes like Bessarabia’s twilight wind To bring a quiet coolth from day’s long heat, Peace to the belly gorged with blood and meat}; Stars for the sun that smote, for fire slow streams, For the simoom the zephyr’s cooing kiss, Deep sleep at last from all the evil dreams, And rest, the possibility of bliss.