The Immortals

I killed them, but they would not die.

Yea! all the day and all the night For them I could not rest or sleep,

Nor guard from them nor hide in flight.

Then in my agony I turned And made my hands red in their gore.

In vain - for faster than I slew They rose more cruel than before.

I killed and killed with slaughter mad;

I killed till all my strength was gone.

And still they rose to torture me,

For Devils only die in fun.

I used to think the Devil hid In women’s smiles and wine’s carouse.

I called him Satan,

Balzebub.

But now I call him, dirty louse.