Page:Poems - Southey (1799) volume 2.djvu/27

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A dim sound as they pass'd: the tainted airWas cold, and heavy with unwholesome dews."Behold!" the fiend exclaim'd, "how gradual hereThe fleshly burden of mortalityMoulders to clay!" then fixing his broad eyeFull on her face, he pointed where a corpseLay livid; she beheld with loathing look,The spectacle abhorr'd by living man.
"Look here!" Despair pursued, "this loathsome massWas once as lovely, and as full of lifeAs, Damsel! thou art now. Those deep-sunk eyesOnce beam'd the mild light of intelligence,And where thou seest the pamper'd flesh-worm trail,Once the white bosom heaved. She fondly thoughtThat at the hallowed altar, soon the PriestShould bless her coming union, and the torchIts joyful lustre o'er the hall of joy,Cast on her nuptial evening: earth to earthThat Priest consign'd her, and the funeral lamp
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