My soul is a tarn as black and motionless as the night above in which whirl forever and ever the pallid balls of light that are my sickly dreams. I am weaving a shroud for the God whom I hate—I have defied him and cursed Him, and here is His winding-sheet. I am lodged in my sins, and my soul is lean of its lusts. The worm that gnaws at the breast of the maid new-dead—that is I, And the bell that tolled her to rest—I am that toll. My heart ventricles are like the bases of canyons untouched by the sun. I am dried, bleached and blanched, lie stark in a great pestilent vapo And Time feeds at my brain like the vultures at the heart o f Prometheus: Who will shrive me and draw the lids over these eyes?
Publication History
The Shadow-Eater [1915/17 and 1923]
1923 Edition Text Changes
- night above in which > night above ⁋ In which
- I hate—I have > I hate— ⁋ I have
- defied him > defied Him