The Spoonbill Generator

I see your shadow on the wall [Roland]

Your breathing fills the air [F]

Incorporal. Your charnel stench [Roland]

Ugsome. Hecate's stare [F]

That penetrates my caul [Roland]

Burns purely, melts the leaden pall [F]

Your icy palm upon my breast [Roland]

Is heavy as the earth [F]

Impassable; my chancel bench [Roland]

Is empty now. Of little worth [F]

This woestruck palimpsest [Roland]

In peace now, may it ever rest [N]