Past the wan-mooned abysses of night
I have lived o’er my lives without number
I have sounded all things with my sight
Ghastly shades of bygone gladness
Clawing fiends of future sadness
Mingle in a cloud of madness
Ever on the soul to lie
Thus the living, lone and sobbing
In the throes of anguish throbbing
With the loathsome Furies robbing
Night and noon of peace and rest
But beyond the groans and grating
Of abhorrent Life, is waiting
Things unseen forever fleeting
Black against the leering sky
Sweet Oblivion, culminating
All the years of fruitless quest
‘Oh, grеat was the sin of my spirit
And great is the rеach of its doom
Not the pity of Heaven can cheer it
Nor can respite be found in the tomb
Down the infinite aeons come beating
The wings of unmerciful gloom
In the barren branches creaking
By the stagnant swamp-pools speaking
Past the shore-cliffs ever shrieking
Damn’d demons of despair
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