Soft shapes of stealth that in the darkness go,
Of furry lusts and gnawing hungers, small
Twittering things obscene, that flit or crawl
In furtive secrecy, vague mouths and blurred
Of the night creature or nocturnal bird—
Amorphous moth and bat-wing—and the earth,
With all her burrows, nooks and nests of birth
Crowded, and wreck of many a perished might,
By the ebbed waters of Life’s fierce delight
Washed up on shores of silence—spoiled and spurned