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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, great was the sin of my spirit

And great is the reach 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