The Mother’s Tragedy

PROLOGUE SIN: AN ODE E rivers, and ye elemental caves, Above the fountains of the broken ice, Know ye what dragon lurks within your waves ? Know ye the secret of the cockatrice ? The basilisk whose shapeless brood Take blood and muck for food ? The sexless passion, the foul scorpion spawn ? The witches and the evil-chanting ones Who strangle stars and suns, Eclipse the moon, and curse against the dawn ? Know ye the haunts of death ? The hole that harboureth The sickening breath, Whence all disease is bred, and all corruption drawn ? Nay, these ye know not, or your waters cold Would stagnate, shudder, putrefy for fear ; Your echoes hate existence, and be rolled Into the silent desolate, dead sphere. _ For in those sightless lairs No living spirit fares vii