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Abeyant winding way |
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Cascades sheltered in white |
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Lead them far astray |
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Where shrouded frail may hide |
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Pursued is ones prey |
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Onto trackless ground of frozen grey |
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Flight to river marmoreal |
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Where cold-blooded winds of north them flay |
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Streams blind and old |
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No sin or virtue here avails |
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Tede them nameless holds |
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Berths beneath thine waves |
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March onward unmarked trails |
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Horns underneath bay strident wails |
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Upon coiling spine |
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Shed ice-white blades of serpent scales |
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Frost upon their graves |
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Furrows fraught with dead |
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Thill waters to deprave |
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And slower runs the river red |
