We who run
from the presence of the sun
By the voided bitter gleam
chasing darkness like a dream
All with weary tasks fordone
'scape the serpents tounge

To catch the shadow,
let the substance fall
Like the sun's bright beam
entangled in melancholia
Entangled in the black roars
of an image's stream

Put the wretch that lies in woe
in remembrance of a shroud
The match agreed
with flames admired

Now I find hideousness in mind
Shall I disturb this hallowed house?
I have been sent with dusk before
to sweep the dust behind the door