I. Solanum Dulcamara. Deadly Nightshade.
DEATH.
I hear thy step afar—
I see the flashing of thy blade
Out-blazing like a meteor star,
Thine eyes are peering from the shade,
Burning with smouldering flame;
Thy voice is as a woman’s wail,
Thy face is bloodless all and pale,
A mockery to fame.
Thou sportest thee a shad’wy robe—
Thy fingers grasp an air-built globe—
A mighty scorn is on thy lip,
Haught skeleton!
Thy wrath is straining on the slip
Unearthly one!
Fire leaves thy nostrils—plague thy breath;
Fear is thy handmaid—thou art Death!
Smile not so grimly—though an hour
May find me powerless in thy pow’r,
And subject me to thy control,—
’Twill be my body—not my soul,
There victor, I defy thee.
For though thou mayest seize my form,
Devote my body to the worm—
And all the grave’s corruption—HE,
The maker both of thee and me,
Decreeth to deny thee
Presumptuous one! all power to inherit,
That portion of his breath which is my spirit.