AMOR MUNDI.
193
Oh, that's a meteor sent us, a message dumb, portentous,
An undeciphered solemn signal of help or hurt."
An undeciphered solemn signal of help or hurt."
"Oh, what is that glides quickly where velvet flowers grow thickly,
Their scent comes rich and sickly ?" "A scaled and hooded worm."
"Oh, what's that in the hollow, so pale I quake to follow?"
"Oh, that's a thin dead body which waits the eternal term."
Their scent comes rich and sickly ?" "A scaled and hooded worm."
"Oh, what's that in the hollow, so pale I quake to follow?"
"Oh, that's a thin dead body which waits the eternal term."
"Turn again, O my sweetest,—turn again, false and fleetest:
This beaten way thou beatest, I tear is hell's own track."
"Nay, too steep for hill mounting nay, too late for cost counting:
This downhill path is easy, but there's no turning back."
This beaten way thou beatest, I tear is hell's own track."
"Nay, too steep for hill mounting nay, too late for cost counting:
This downhill path is easy, but there's no turning back."
