Then flung the hot-red liquor in my face;
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Burning it blazed, and then I roar'd for pain,
I thought the demons would have turn'd my brain.
"Still there they stood, and forced me to behold
A place of horrors—they cannot be told—
Where the flood open'd, there I heard the shriek
Of tortured guilt no earthly tongue can speak:
'All days alike! for ever!' did they say,
'And unremitted torments every day!'—