Their laughter was like the stridulation of the ghosts of grasshoppers.
Where got she her sullen mouthAnd where her swaying form?Would she live on eggs and applesWhen the blood of men is warm?(__he Young Witch_)
The Thirst of Satan: Poems of Fantasy and Terror
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Where got she her sullen mouthAnd where her swaying form?Would she live on eggs and applesWhen the blood of men is warm?(__he Young Witch_)
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