Escape the towers of the night, The high and topless towers; And make a sacrifice of light On altars of black flowers, For only death has certain sight And only mind still cowers. The Things that gibber ever, creep In fear about the spaces Of silence and the empty deep. Eternity still races Along the emptiness. Still sleep The unfamiliar faces. And I would know the warmth of ice, The warmth of frozen things. O Lazarus! By what device Bore you the heat that springs Forever from your heart? Suffice I know of what heat brings. |