Conqueror worm_verse IV-V
This is verse 4-5 in the poem by Edgar Allan Poe. In this recording there are an ensemble playing the choir part. Otherwise it should be for soprano soloist & 10 singers.
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Lyrics
4.
But see, amid the mimic rout,
A crawling shape intrude!
A bloodred thing that writhes from out
The scenic solitude!
It writhes! –it writhes!– with mortal pangs
The mimes become its food,
And seraphs sob at vermin fangs
In human gore imbued.
5.
Out, out,–are the lights– out all!
And, over each quivering form,
The curtain, a funeral pall,
Comes down with the rush of a storm,
While the angels, all pallid and wan,
Uprising, unveiling, affirm
That the play is the tragedy, “Man,”
And its hero, the Conqueror Worm.
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