Page:Poems - Lewis (1812).djvu/108

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92
POEMS.
Yes! soon!—For Lo you! . . . . while I speak. . . .Mark, how yon Dæmon's eye-balls glare!—He sees me!—Now with dreadful shriekHe whirls a Serpent high in air!—Horror!—The Reptile strikes his toothDeep in my heart so crushed and sad!—Aye, laugh, ye Fiends!—I feel the truth!Your task is done!—I'm mad! I'm mad!
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