Oh, cruel Night.
Evil Darkness.
You serve these slathered dishes [+]
One after another.
Moldy, and mushed
Glossed over with blood.
I will not succumb.
No.
Nor pick at scabs,
Nor self-indulge,
Nor hear your lies,
Nor smear mine eyes;-
Oh, cruel, Cruel Night!
God, hold me! Drive these out;
Go! Leave! Delight in thy own's bonf'red pouts!