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George MacDonald - A Mammon-Marri
Work rating: Low

The croak of a raven hoar!
A dog`s howl, kennel-tied!
Loud shuts the carriage-door:
The two are away on their ghastly ride
To Death`s salt shore!

Where are the love and the grace?
The bridegroom is thirsty and cold!
The bride`s skull sharpens her face!
But the coachman is driving, jubilant, bold,
The devil`s pace.

The horses shivered and shook
Waiting gaunt and haggard
With sorry and evil look;
But swift as a drunken wind they staggered
`Longst Lethe brook.

Long since, they ran no more;
Heavily pulling they died
On the sand of the hopeless shore
Where never swelled or sank a tide,
And the salt burns sore.

Flat their skeletons lie,
White shadows on shining sand;
The crusted reins go high
To the crumbling coachman`s bony hand
On his knees awry.

Side by side, jarring no more,
Day and night side by side,
Each by a doorless door,
Motionless sit the bridegroom and bride
On the Dead-Sea-shore.
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