NECROMANCY

My heart is made a necromancer's glass,

Where homeless forms and exile phantoms teem;

Where faces of forgotten sorrows gleam,

And dead despairs archaic peer and pass:

Grey longings of some weary heart that was.

Possess me, and the multiple, supreme,

Unwildered hope and star-emblazoned dream

Of questing armies.... Ancient queen and lass,

Risen vampire-like from out the wormy mold,

Deep in the magic mirror of my heart

Behold their perished beauty, and depart.

And now, from black aphelions far and cold,

Swimming in deathly light on charnel skies,

The enormous ghosts of bygone worlds arise.