There is a dark foreboding in thy speech;
Thine eyes flash fearfully a moody joy
That augurs a new downfall. Whence arise
These desperate hopes, that seem to make thee fond
Of lowest misery?
Sylphs. - Poems (1851) - Prometheus
There is a dark foreboding in thy speech;
Thine eyes flash fearfully a moody joy
That augurs a new downfall. Whence arise
These desperate hopes, that seem to make thee fond
Of lowest misery?
Sylphs. - Poems (1851) - Prometheus