Louse Hunting

Nudes, stark and glistening,Yelling in lurid glee. Grinning facesAnd raging limbsWhirl over the floor one fire;For a shirt verminously busyYon soldier tore from his throatWith oathsGodhead might shrink at, but not the lice,And soon the shirt was aflareOver the candle he'd lit while we lay.

Then we all sprang up and striptTo hunt the verminous brood.Soon like a demons' pantomimeThis plunge was raging.See the silhouettes agape,See the gibbering shadowsMixed with the baffled arms on the wall.

See Gargantuan hooked fingersPluck in supreme fleshTo smutch supreme littleness.See the merry limbs in that Highland flingBecause some wizard vermin willedTo charm from the quiet this revelWhen our ears were half lulledBy the dark musicBlown from Sleep's trumpet.