10
A LITTLE CHILD'S MONUMENT.
With dust that loved, scorned, knew not that they were,
For ever to be heaped, and hounded there,
In amicable rest, or rivalry
With never-animate dust of the dun sea …
… Anarchic spirits of the desert blast
Celebrate all the ruin of the past!
Shadowy Murder's dismal dialogue,
Conspiring, ere she leap to disembogue
Annihilating vials on my head,
Who dare to stand alive among the dead.
Carousals, wails from hollowhearts resound,
Long agony of maniac souls around,
Low moaning, shrieking, fading in a swound,
Thundering exultant through the rifted tomb,
And bearing down my heart with swoop of doom;
"Cease! cease from trouble! hope thou, or despair;
"Wait but a little, thou too shalt be there!"
