The gleeless song, and the lyreless strain,[n31]
That bindeth the heart with a viewless chain,
With notes of distraction and maddening sorrow,
Blighting the brain, and burning the marrow!
Where the victim lies,
Let the death-hymn rise,
The hymn that binds with a viewless chain!
ANTISTROPHE I.
Mother Night that bore me,
The Fate that was before me,