Poems of Madison Cawein Vol. 4 — The Werewolf

_She_ Nay!

'twas yon stream that leaps Hoarse from the black pines of the Hakel steeps;

Its moon-wild water glittering down the crag.

-- Why so aghast, sweetheart?

Why dost thou stop?

_He_ The Demon Huntsman passed with hooting horn!

_She_ Nay!

'twas the blind wind sweeping through the thorn Around the ruins of the Dumburg's top.

_He_ My limbs are cold.

_She_ Come!

warm thee in my arms.

_He_ My eyes are weary.

_She_ Rest, them, love, on mine.

_He_ I am athirst.

_She_ Quench, on my lips, thy thirst.

-- O dear belovéd, how thy last kiss warms My blood again!

_He_ Off!...

How thy eyeballs shine!

-- Thou beast!...

thou--Ah!...

thus do I die, accursed!