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| Amethyst Miscellaneous Mistress Of Gordon Laying, gazing on the midnight sky Upon clowdy mountainpeak supine Below, ruined lands are seen trembling Her horror and beauty are divine Return, my Mistress of Gorgon Thy've marked my heart with wisdom Return, my Mistress of Gorgon Thy've scarred my soul, and now it is gone... Upon her lips and eyelids, seems no lie Loveliness as a shadow, from which it shines Fury and luried, struggling underneath The agonies and anguish of death My Mistress of Gorgon Thy've marked my heart with no wisdom Return not my Mistress of Gorgon Thy've scarred my soul... Roam alone Yes, it's the horror than the grace Which turns the gazer's spirits, into stone Whereon the lineaments of that dead face Are graven, till the characters be grown Into itself and thought no more can trace 'Tis the melodious hue, of beauty enthroned Arthwont the darkness and the glore of pain Which humanize and harmonize the strain From her head, as from one body grows As rotten grass out of a watery rock Hair as a viper, they curl and flow Their long tangles, in each other lock With unending involutions show... Their moiled radiance, as it were to mock The torture and the dead within and saw The solid air, with many a ragged jaw 'Tis the tempestious loveliness of terror Far from the serpent's gleam, a brazen glare Kindled, by that inextricable terror Which makes a thrilling vapour, of the air To become an ever shiftening mirror nightmare Of all the beauty, and terror there A woman's countenance, with serpent locks Gazing in depth from heaven on death, From those wet rocks... |
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