The thunder of Demons
Rising up from Hell

Taking to the skies
Only when night fell

Nightmares came crawling
Hear the Gothic bell

Coming of the end
Only when night fell

Hear the Angels crying
Nothing left to tell

The world in flames
Only when night fell

442

God made a little Gentian—
It tried—to be a Rose—
And failed—and all the Summer laughed—
But just before the Snows

There rose a Purple Creature—
That ravished all the Hill—
And Summer hid her Forehead—
And Mockery—was still—

The Frosts were her condition—
The Tyrian would not come
Until the North—invoke it—
Creator—Shall I—bloom?