As wolves or bats Through forests or the heights Fragmented into rats Causing loathing and fright Ours are the late hours Ours are the dark powers By a gaze of ours Any mortal cowers In the shape of beast With enhanced might In the cloak of mist Through the ether of night Ours are the late hours Ours are the dark powers By a kiss of ours The blood of mortals showers Cold and pale is our face White as moonlight But tight is our embrace And sharp is our bite Beyond god's grace Deprived of the sun's sight While we feed on their race We shall avoid the scythe Old Yet preserved in eternal youth... Cold Yet how easily we do seduce... Bold Though ever absent is our pulse... Those two in the neck Are points of no coming back... Ours are the late hours Ours are the dark powers Among the withering flowers Rise our ivory towers