John Bannister Tabb

The Vampire Moon

The vital vapors to absorb,
The moon, with famished gaze,
Suspends her lean, malignant orb
Above a dying face.

I watch her like a folded flower,
As silently expand
The pulses waving hour by hour
And heavier the hand,

Till she hath brimmed her cup; and I
An empty chalice hold;
My heart, in agony, as dry,
In wintriness as cold.

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