And the front was alive with masks of malice and of despair;
Horned demons that leered in stone, and women with serpent hair;
That whenever his glance would rest on the soft hills far and blue,
It must fall on mine evil work, and my hatred should pierce him through.
And I said, “I will dwell herein, for beholding my heart’s desire
On my foe”; and I knelt, and fain had brightened the hearth with fire;
But the brands they would hiss and die, as with curses a strangled man,
And the hearth was cold from the day that the House of Hate began.
And I called at the open door, “Make ye merry, all friends of mine,
In the hall of my House of Hate, where is plentiful store and wine.