Behold thy lacquered sins are glorified
In frantic fowls that round thy handle soar,
Mad with obscure desires, like those that tore
Unclean blue Mænads by the Phrygian tide!
And horrors like vermilion rats awake
And crawl about thee, crooning in my ears
Dim, vampire songs of shrivelled souls that ache
With the strange lust for torture-baths of pain;
Sick with the thirst of poison drunk in vain,
And bleeding with the clammy blood of tears.