A circle of robes, scratching their beard and nodding so quiet
A society of poets between ancient walls of books so disquiet
Unrepining hours are suspended in the crystal moment
Into the eternal pensiveness, a mournful egress to love
A gyre of starlight lolls across the mouldering cemeteries.
Crimson soul, I, to the faraway kingdom of mysteries
Eclipse me tendr'ly and my gothic debris
Like the woodsmoke of dying ambers,
Like ivy raining o’er the red brick ruins
Kisseth to the ground where the dead is buried
Numberless days, the dancing of flames. Our degradation
Lilies, roses, and reeds
Ringeth the mumbles of piano in the charcoal cave of a shipwreck
Holdeth fast to the drowse, mine own dark academia