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On Whom The Moon Doth Shine

Theatre of Tragedy

Oh soft embalmer of ye still midnight
Allow me thee to adown
Of any sort thou fancieth
Each holdeth its own fancy, I say

Yet the pleasure we partake in
Was caus'd by the fang'd grin
Save, do I for him anger hold?
Nay, I knew I was fey

(Had I what it taketh I would do
I sense, I cannot sense
I am, yet, I am not
Once I kiss'd the image of the Seven Angels of Death)

Yet as thou so didst
On my lips a kiss landéd
And with the shadows blendéd
The tendermost silken mourn

In which the light hidden is
Yon Hell's brazen doors
Wrothfully it trieth to push
(Then, lo, the Black Death
Serpent-like 'twixt the breasts crept)

Hush'd with a gasp of life's breath
(Hush'd with a gasp of life's breath)
Together red tears we wept in vain
(Together red tears they wept)
And pass'd the procession of dancers dead
(And pass'd the procession of dancers dead)
As in darkness were we lock'd in wed
(As in darkness were we lock'd in wed)

I kiss'd the Seven Angels of Death
(And Hell open'd its doors)
Yet what was 'fore my eyes
(Yet what was 'fore my eyes)
But if not the brightest light
(But if not the brightest light)

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Compuesta por: Theatre of Tragedy. ¿Los datos están equivocados? Avísanos.


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