The Demon's Story

Now hearken! derided the devil
(Buffoon of the powers of air);
I wearied of tempting the evil,
I wearied of vexing despair;
I hardly arrived for the revel;
I flew, but the mourning was there.

Then cycle on cycle I waited
For one who was joyous and pure;
With mortals uncounted I mated,
Aye searching for happiness sure;
For innocence such as I hated,
To practice my torture or lure.

I found him, the raptured, the holy,
The man without trespass or tear;
His visage was loving and lowly,
His eyes beheld Paradise near;
But slowly his breathing fell; slowly
His riven heart reddened a spear.