Draped o’er with lifeless skin. Its Brow, or what
Seemed like to Brow, hungered the heavy skies.
Its glittering eyes
Gleamed coldly in great orbs. ’Twas steely-lipped.
Its Trunk, Its ruinous Midst—oh, tell it not!
Most like ’twas to a livid dream forgot,
And waked to horror at fell Memory’s whims!
A sweaty Terror sat upon my limbs;
My natural Fell awoke to life, and stood
Erect with palpable horror; and all my blood