As wan as corpses', but with wings like flames,
Glared on me from each wall.
Those fixed orbs haunted me; I grew to hate
Those square and skinny jaws, those high-cheek bones.
Nocturnes in soot and symphonies in slate
Moved me to sighs and groans.
Queer convolutions of dim drapery
Inwrapt me like a Nessus-snare.
I seemed enmeshed in tangles hot and dry
Of copper-coloured hair.