‘ ‘ ² Åü¿Â 131 Who comes to see me daily—I shall die Happier if I kill him ; so shall I Reap on his body the last tare of lust, And shrivel back into my primal dust Filled with all worms and hornéd beasts with wings, The reptile that sweats acrid juice, and stings With bloody teeth and tongue ! Oh, all the room Spits fire and dung, and vomits forth a spume Of tawny sickly death ! All blotched and dark, The putrid air is vital with a spark Of fiery eyes of yonder filthy hound ! God ! I am reeling brain and body ! I swound ! The floor heaves up ! The worms devour my breast ! Beasts and lewd fish and wingèd things infest Each vital part ! Screech, rats ! more liquor ! Come ! Rumble, you rotting whore-skin of a drum ! I care not ! Scream, you rats ! Snakes, bite and hiss ! Hell’s spawn, I mouth you with this putrid kiss ! Satan ! Damnation ! This is the abyss !