Son Of Erebus And Night, Hie Away; And Aim Thy Flight Where Consort None Other Fowl Than The Bat And Sullen Owl; Where Upon The Limber Grass Poppy And Mandragoras With Like Simples Not A Few Hang For Ever Drops Of Dew. Where Flows Lethe Without Coil Softly Like A Stream Of Oil. Hie Thee Thither, Gentle Sleep: With This Greek No Longer Keep. Thrice I Charge Thee By My Wand; Thrice With Moly From My Hand Do I Touch Ulysses' Eyes, And With The Jaspis: Then Arise, Sagest Greek.... The Inner Temple Masque.