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.

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