list, stranger, list, mine is an human form, like that thou wearest-touch me-strink not now? my hand thou feel,st is not a ghosts, but warm. with human blood-twas many years ago. since first my thirsting soul aspired to know. the secrets of this wondrous world, when deep. my heart was pierced with sympathy, for woe. which could not be mine own.-and thought did keep. in dreams innatural watch beside an infant,s sleep.
the fiend, whose name was legion; Death, decay, earthquake and blight, and want, and madness pale. Winged and wan deseases, an array. Numerous as leaves that strew the autumnal gal; Poison, a snake in flowers, beneath the veil. Of food and mirth hiding his mortal head; And without whom all these nought avail. fear, hatred, faith, and tyranny, who spread those subtle nets which snare the living and the dead.
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