III.

Her strong enchantments failing,
   Her towers of fear in wreck,
Her limbecks dried of poisons
   And the knife at her neck,

The Queen of air and darkness
   Begins to shrill and cry,
“O young man my slayer,
   To-morrow you shall die.”

O Queen of air and darkness,
   I think ‘tis truth you say,
And I shall die to-morrow;
   but you will die today.

A.E. Housman, Last Poems
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Public domain: first published in 1922.

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