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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