White Stains

‘ ‘ ² Åü¿Â 125 Of devilish pain. This is th’ abyss indeed ; Fears on my mind and pains on body feed, Serpents of hell that gnaw my bones, nor quench The fires of torture with the sickly stench Of many a venomed drug, that clings and cleaves, An clutches like a dead man’s hand, and weaves Its subtle scheme of agony through me. Is God to help a mortal ? Or are we Caught in Fate’s mesh without a hope to ’ scape ? Ah ! look around ! In every darksome shape ! Fearful, nude Venus grins. Alcyone Mocks with her sickening smile. Hill, moor, and lea Make me to hate them. Only Clytie there, Wild arms thrown wide, an agony of hair Streamed fierce behind her, seems to sympathize ; Through selfish, yet despair in both our eyes Gives us a link of love. The darkling room Is fearsome ; one red light throughout the gloom Thrills my void veins with horror. On the couch The gruesome hound with sleepy stare doth crouch. His red hard eye upon me. Every shelf Of noisome books reflects my hideous self ! Lucky I burnt my picture ! Snakes on floor Writhe, lick my legs, I fear them. By the door