Part 4 / Book 1 — THE KING AND THE WRAITH.

king. Who art thou, who art thou, indistinct as the spray Rising up from a torrent in vapour and cloud? Ghastly Phantom, obscuring the splendour of day And enveloped in awe, as a corpse with a shroud? wraith. King, my form is thy shade, And my life is thy breath; Lo, thy likeness display'd In the mirror of Death! king. My veins are as ice! 'Tis my voice that I hear! 'Tis my form coming forth from the cloud that I see! My voice?—can its sound be so dread to my ear? My form?—can myself be so loathly to me? wraith. Never Man comes in sight Of himself till the last; In the flicker of light When the fuel is past! king. Nay, avaunt, lying Spectre, my fears are dispell'd, For the likeness that fool'd me is fading away, And I see, where the shape of a king was beheld, But the coil of an earthworm that creeps into clay. wraith. As thy shade I began; As thyself I depart; And thy last looks, O Man, See the worm that thou art!