go not to lethe , neither twist wolf , s-bane , tight-rooted , for its poisonous wine ; nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kiss , d by nightshade , ruby grape of proserpine ; make not your rosary of yew-berries , nor let the beetle , nor the death-moth be your mournful psyche , nor the downy owl a partner in your sorrow , s mysteries ; for shade to shade will come too drowsily , and drown the wakeful anguish of the soul .