Erdgeist by Thy Catafalque Lyrics

Ashes of mourning upon his face
Ashes of fever upon his face
Asleep is the world
Yet not the soil

"Ride hard, my good steed
Nocturnal woods shan't frighten us
Wintry is the valley
And giants are the oaks

Ride fast, saddle-horse
Look at the sky not
In thy master's ravish'd heart
Is the cold moon now

Spirit of Earth, most fierce one
I shall find thee with rankling sore
Take my rotter flesh
For my soul you cannot reach!

Erdgeist!"
To draw sword against Fate
Temerity or desperation?
Who can remedy God's sin
The most abhorrent...?