Hellish Grief

So toll the bells, the bells of Hell, my soul;

So when I hear the knell of bells from Hell

Then I can pay as well the hellish toll

To quell these heart-whole tears and say farewell

And so I creep and grope in Hell’s morass,

Up his steep slope Ephyra’s king still lopes

Where Ocnus shapes his rope to feed his ass,

Near pool and grapes untouched which Atys gropes.

So shall I find you there and pay the fare?

The ferryman shan’t wait for man nor child

Nor me, bereft, heart-sick, gone wild to bear

The loss of love, of you, unreconciled.

And lo! My steps will lead me back in kind

Without the one I went to Hell to find.