We who run  from the presence of the sun  By the voided bitter gleam  chasing darkness like a dream  All with weary tasks fordone  'scape the serpents tounge    To catch the shadow,  let the substance fall  Like the sun's bright beam  entangled in melancholia  Entangled in the black roars  of an image's stream    Put the wretch that lies in woe  in remembrance of a shroud  The match agreed  with flames admired    Now I find hideousness in mind  Shall I disturb this hallowed house?  I have been sent with dusk before  to sweep the dust behind the door