And the scoundrel’s curse is muttered
Beware! beware!
’Tis I am there.
I am a draught from an envenomed winepress
Low-humming ere the thud and thunderstorm—
And then at nightfall I decline, subsiding.
My flames will flicker out into the starlight
And I shall scoop into the dome of darkness
A filmy vault of crystallising silver.