Fair And `guiling Copesmate Death — текст песни (Theatre Of Tragedy)

Gaunt and gnarl`d
Reflecteth the silver shield this welkin` aghast,
And with haste translateth to gild`d black post and fast.
Anon - anon, say I! - the lid aside,
Crawl without this velvet-clad coffin blest,
The bottom sand of the hourglass is at tide,
`Tis and hath e`er been merry blood to pest -
To be adust for time longer can I not bide,
Hence the heart hale out thro` the chest!
Misery thee?! - Rather misery me! -
For in Time`s durance am I naught but wee.
Sensing this pine is as deep as the
deepest chasm,
Hither! - cede and fulfil my phantasm!
Cherish me and sonorously do me laud -
For dread! - thine eyes will behold a guise faugh`d.
This tender and loving pest I to the bequeath,
Thence swiftly wilt thou errant to `Neath.
And to me should`st thou be the humblemost knave,
Lest fear! - spit I on thy cist and grave! -
Lest leer I at thee and do bewitch,
And the tharms fluttering claw`d and eldritch.
To conquer thee and thy blood for glore
Art thou my afeared and reluctant whore;
Irksomely coy, save wilied by alarum,
Bear this torture and maim with decorum.
If e`er always was I this blissful and blithe
Would I resign to but its wee tithe.
Purvey my ache and quench my profoundest urge,
And to thee will I sing the lull-dull
dirge;
Deliver thy blood like the rill filleth the ghyll.
Burrow to the trothplight with the Nigh and Devil! -
Bid Him to league with me - forsooth, merry to `come `twill.
Whilom wast thou vestal, yet now flit to thy tryst,
Elsewise will I coerce
thine consonantry to turn whist;
Grasp I the snath and cut off thine breath,
So that thou canst in darkness and inferno vester,
For do I solely what He to me liefly saith.
Death - oh! fair and `guiling copesmate Death,
Be not a malais`d beggar; claim this bloody jester!