As wolves or bats  Through forests or the heights  Fragmented into rats  Causing loathing and fright    Ours are the late hours  Ours are the dark powers  By a gaze of ours  Any mortal cowers    In the shape of beast  With enhanced might  In the cloak of mist  Through the ether of night    Ours are the late hours  Ours are the dark powers  By a kiss of ours  The blood of mortals showers    Cold and pale is our face  White as moonlight  But tight is our embrace  And sharp is our bite    Beyond god's grace  Deprived of the sun's sight  While we feed on their race  We shall avoid the scythe    Old  Yet preserved in eternal youth...  Cold  Yet how easily we do seduce...  Bold  Though ever absent is our pulse...    Those two in the neck  Are points of no coming back...    Ours are the late hours  Ours are the dark powers  Among the withering flowers  Rise our ivory towers