The Hooded-dead are buried here;
Before us, the real world lies.
The green angel-vampires flirt,
In the vague wooded forest
Where their dying admirers—die.
With shaded-eyes of apple red
They place upon tormented beds,
Pleasure, and swan-like haunted youth.
These Hooded-dead, now buried here:
Whom once were admirers, of the dark!