Beneath my dome of sleep, secure-immersed
And filled of peace, such blinded power of scath
As Samson once employed, was loosed in wrath,
And tumult with tempestuous arm dispersed
The pillared silence: came a wind accurst,
That, shuddering, as from hidden peril fled —
A sign; and then the Past's uncharneled dread
In swarming visions on the darkness burst.

Betrayed by Sleep unto the might of Eld,
I knew the terror of its kings, the fear
Of thrones abased by some resistless flood;
Howlings of prophets mingled in mine ear
With death-lament of cities, far-beheld
'Neath drenching flame that made the night as blood.