Theatre of Tragedy "On Whom the Moon Doth Shine" Слова пісні

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On Whom the Moon Doth Shine

"O 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 inWas 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 blendédThe tendermost silken mourn;In which the light hidden is -Yon Hell's brazen doorsWrothfully it trieth to push."

"Then, lo! the Black Death,

Serpent-like 'twixt the breasts crept;

[together:]Hush'd with a gasp of life's breath,Together red tears they wept,And pass'd the procession of dancers dead -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 eyesBut if not the brightest light."

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