When the spirit lusts for Lethe's waters green
Yet slaked from infinities of Styx decease
In a ghostly voyage, cursed by all three fates.
When seeking the tyrant depths for once estated heights
Whereat now dimmed reflections of nothingness lease
The deserted states of landlord spleen.

And none of civilization's fancy scales can dress
The empty slough of this Orpheused self warp
His wife was slain twice, becoming the archfiend's
concubine
With the stir of his eye. And in agony, discarded Muses
nine
And silenced their chords, and in no other harp
Pluto and mortals may find condolence.

And this hollowness, not knowing white from night
Suddenly leaps like his envious lover's rage
Knowing Hades will delight in his beloved goods
And death, not Fancy's bed, would win her maidenhood.
In this black fire of men, exist but the savage
Tamed by timid candlelight.