By faint degrees, voice, lute, and pleasure ceased;

A deadly silence step by step increased,

Until it seem'd a horrid presence there,

And not a man but felt the terror in his hair.

"Lamia!" he shriek'd; and nothing but the shriek

With its sad echo did the silence break.

"Begone, foul dream!" he cried, gazing again

In the bride's face, where now no azure vein

(Editor：food)