Painted in the fitful fire a frightful, fiendish, flaming face!
III.
On the red hearth’s reddest centre, from a blazing knot of oak,
Seemed to gibe and grin this Phantom when in terror I awoke,
And my slumberous eyelids straining as I staggered to the floor,
Still in that dread Vision seeming, turned my eyes toward the gleaming
Hearth, and—there! oh, God! I saw it! and from out its flaming Jaw it
Spat a ceaseless, seething, hissing, bubbling, gurgling stream of gore!
IV.
Speechless; struck with stony silence; frozen to the floor I stood,