The Laboratory

The Laboratory
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  • Now that I, tying thy glass mask tightly,  May gaze thro’ these faint smokes curling whitely,  As thou pliest thy trade in this devil’s-smithy—  Which is the poison to poison her, prithee? 
  •    He is with her, and they know that I know  Where they are, what they do: they believe my tears flow  While they laugh, laugh at me, at me fled to the drear  Empty church, to pray God in, for them!—I am here. 
  •    Grind away, moisten and mash up thy paste,  Pound at thy powder,—I am not in haste!  Better sit thus and observe thy strange things,  Than go where men wait me and dance at the King’s. 
  •  Soon, at the King’s, a mere lozenge to give  And Pauline should have just thirty minutes to live!  But to light a pastile, and Elise, with her head  And her breast and her arms and her hands, should drop dead! 
  •  Soon, at the King’s, a mere lozenge to give  And Pauline should have just thirty minutes to live!  But to light a pastile, and Elise, with her head  And her breast and her arms and her hands, should drop dead! 
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