"Aha!" quoth he

The furies three,

Shall rise again and fight for me.

And so rose they

To the light of day

And nevermore may the sad folk prey.

They tore the earth,

That shattered berth

And wrecked the hopes of matchless mirth.

Then came a day,

They would away,

But he in spite did make them stay.

They turned on him,

With growlings grim,

And pushed me toward the fatal rim.

A push—he fell,

No truths to tell,

And perished in eternal hell.

My time is done,

My hate is run,

And all that's left is what I've won:

The price of those

Who grasp the rose,

And fall from grace with fingers closed.

---or---

"Ha!" quoth he

to the demons three

come stand, be strong, and fight for me.

And up rose they

To the light of day

And Nevermore shall the sad folk prey.

They tore the earth,

That shattered berth

And drank the dreams of matchless mirth.

Then came a day,

They would away,

But he in spite did make them stay.

They turned on him,

With growlings grim,

And pushed me to the fatal rim.

A push—I fell,

No truths to tell,

And perished in eternal hell.

My time is done,

My hate is run,

And all that's left is what I've won:

The price of those

Who grasp the rose,

And fall from grace with fingers closed.