《The Conqueror Worm》歌词

[00:00:20] Lo! 'tis a gala night

[00:00:24] Within the lonesome latter years!

[00:00:29] An angel throng, bewinged, bedight

[00:00:34] In veils, and drowned in tears,

[00:00:40] Sit in a theatre, to see

[00:00:44] A play of hopes and fears,

[00:00:50] While the orchestra breathes fitfully

[00:00:56] The music of the spheres.

[00:01:21] Mimes, in the form of God on high,

[00:01:26] Mutter and mumble low,

[00:01:31] And hither and thither fly -

[00:01:36] Mere puppets they, who come and go

[00:01:41] At bidding of vast formless things

[00:01:45] That shift the scenery to and fro,

[00:01:51] Flapping from out their Condor wings

[00:01:58] Invisible Woe!

[00:02:01] That motley drama - oh, be sure

[00:02:06] It shall not be forgot!

[00:02:10] With its Phantom chased for evermore,

[00:02:14] By a crowd that seize it not,

[00:02:20] Through a circle that ever returneth in

[00:02:25] To the self-same spot,

[00:02:29] And much of Madness, and more of Sin,

[00:02:35] And Horror the soul of the plot.

[00:02:40] And much of Madness, and more of Sin,

[00:02:45] And Horror the soul of the plot.

[00:03:11] But see, amid the mimic rout

[00:03:16] A crawling shape intrude!

[00:03:21] A blood-red thing that writhes from out

[00:03:26] The scenic solitude!

[00:03:31] It writhes! - it writhes! - with mortal pangs

[00:03:35] The mimes become its food,

[00:03:40] And seraphs sob at vermin fangs

[00:03:45] In human gore imbued.

[00:04:15] Out - out are the lights - out all!

[00:04:19] And, over each quivering form,

[00:04:24] The curtain, a funeral pall,

[00:04:29] Comes down with the rush of a storm,

[00:04:34] While the angels, all pallid and wan,

[00:04:39] Uprising, unveiling, affirm

[00:04:43] That the play is the tragedy, "Man,"

[00:04:48] And its hero the Conqueror Worm.