Offspring of Silence and of old Decay, Thou of the moveless form, and evil eye, Upon thy shrine -albeit unwillingly, These my novitiate verses do I lay And reason good such homage I should pay, For they were breathed by one whose youthful flame, The restless night, and day of added pain, Have quenched for thirty moons their mark and prey! A ccept, OBLIVION then, this gift of mine, Framed by thy Subject, meetly is it thine.
(Typographical errors above are due to OCR software and don't occur in the book.)
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