|by Dana D.
It was many and many a year ago,
In London-town I stayed,
And a psychic there lived whom you may know
By the name of Drusilla the maid;
And this psychic she lived with no other thought
Than to flee and escape my crusade.
I was reviled and she was a child,
When in London-town I stayed;
But I tormented her, and she fled from me;
I and Drusilla the maid;
And my torment continued for many a day;
Till she was afeared and afraid.
And this was the reason, long ago,
That poor Drusilla the maid,
Fled to a convent and took holy vows,
In London-town dismayed;
Hoping the grace of God would save
Psychic Drusilla the maid,
And the doomed sisters inside the four walls
Blindly her fears allayed.
The demon, who hungered to prolong the torture,
Went coveting the poor maid
Yes!- that was the reason (as we all know,
In London-town decayed)
That the demon called Angelus came for her soul,
Yearning, and turning Drusilla the maid.
For my lust it was stronger by far than the faith
Of those who guarded the maid-
The many who guarded the maid-
And neither the maiden who prayed unto God,
Nor the sisters that I waylaid,
Could ever dissever my fate from the fate
Of tortured Drusilla the maid.
Now the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of lovely Drusilla the maid;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of tortured Drusilla the maid;
And now, in my un-life, my sins I revile
And Drusilla- poor Drusilla- is my unholy child,
And she my torments has repaid,
The maddened Drusilla the maid.
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