Where are the love and the grace?
The bridegroom is thirsty and cold!
The bride’s skull sharpens her face!
But the coachman is driving, jubilant, bold,
The devil’s pace.
The horses shiver’d and shook
Waiting gaunt and haggard
With sorry and evil look;
But swift as a drunken wind they stagger’d
‘Longst Lethe brook.