On Death
(Cymbric, a bereaved new-widow, speaks:)

"Stay away You vile and foul-stenched monster!
Hie thee from this place for quite a while more!
No cold and bloodless hand shall clasp, nor stir
This form of peaceful beauty through my door!

By spells, signs, amulets, dances, and chants,
I shall beat You back, bloody Your knuckles!
Bring to force any mass I can incant
From Heaven or most ambivalent Hell!

Spring Thee? I shall put Thee down. Clamour Thee?
I shall rouse even louder; Raving rants 
I shall banshee Thy ears and senses, free 
Of mortal bounds, till Thy power is spent!

He'll not be taken from me! By my oath
I'll fight Thee till my death...then take Ye both."