and from a distant mountain rolls,
"Walk this way, ye wearied souls,
"for nigh's the time the last bell tolls.
and to the one who'd chanced to hear,
who'd dared to turn a listening ear,
to him, the beast spoke loud and clear.
"And, bid, ye wanderer, cast thy net
"in barren sea of thickest jet
"then come to me to pay thy debt!
"For secrets that ye've ne'er been told
"are mine to have, and still I hold
"thy fate in eyes that glitter gold!
"So walk, ye wayward one, to me;
"fancy pain as pleasantry,
"as price of man's dark legacy."
and turn, he did, as if sure-lost
toward that fate of debt and cost;
and might he wished Fates' paths ne'er crossed?
then toward that distant mountain's drone,
as if by spell and broken bone,
forever, he would stumble on.
--Monty Wheeler
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