Grey hells, or hells aglow with hot and scarlet flow’rs;

White hells of light and clamour; hells the abomination

Of breathless, deep sepulchral desolation

Oppresses ever—I have known them all, through hours

Tedious as dead eternity; where timeless pow’rs,

Leagued in malign, omnipotent persuasion—

Wearing the guise of love, despair and aspiration,

Forever drove, through ashen fields and burning bow’rs,

My soul that found no sanctuary.**** For Lucifer,

And all the weary, proud, imperious, baffled ones

Made in his image, hell is anywhere: The ice

Of hyperboreal deserts, or the blowing spice

In winds from off Sumatra, for each wanderer

Preserves the jealous flame of sad, infernal suns.