Explore "Superstition" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
In the waste places, in the dreadful night, / When the wood whispers like a wandering mind, / And silence sits and listens to the wind, / Or, 'mid the rocks, to some wild torrent's flight; / Bat-browed thou wadest with thy wisp of light / Among black pools the moon can never find; / Or, owlet-eyed, thou hootest to the blind / Deep darkness from some cave or haunted height.
He who beholds but once thy fearsome face, / Never again shall walk alone! but wan / And terrible attendants shall be his -- / Unutterable things that have no place / In God or Beauty -- that compel him on, / Against all hope, where endless horror is.