Nyctalops

Ye that see in darkness When the moon is drowned In the coiling fen-mist Far along the ground— Ye that see in darkness, Say, what have ye found? —We have seen strange atoms Trysting on the air— The dust of vanished lovers Long parted in despair, And dust of flowers that withered In worlds of otherwhere. We have seen the nightmares Winging down the sky, Bat-like and silent, To where the sleepers lie; We have seen the bosoms Of the succubi. We have seen the crystal Of dead Medusa's tears. We have watched the undines That wane in stagnant weirs, And mandrakes madly dancing By black, blood-swollen meres. We have seen the satyrs Their ancient loves renew With moon-white nymphs of cypress, Pale dryads of the yew, In the tall grass of graveyards Weighed down with evening's dew. We have seen the darkness Where charnel things decay, Where atom moves with atom In shining swift array, Like ordered constellations On some sidereal way. We have seen fair colors That dwell not in the light— Intenser gold and iris Occult and recondite; We have seen the black suns Pouring forth the night.