But oh, the foul demons (horrific to tell)
Have mixed a fierce poison, the wild flame of hell;
And it killeth each fairest and loveliest thing
That the earth ever knew in her bridal of Spring.
'Tis the wild stream of hell! oh it burneth the soul,
It scatheth, and blighteth, and killeth the whole;
Yet, a Vulture, it gnaweth the quivering liver,
Forever consuming, but satiate never.
Ay, it fills the wide world with the wailing and woe,
That liken the shrieking of Devils below: