Dracula, The Hollow Prince

The sea was black and Whitby slept,  

Its cliffs like teeth the fog had kept.  

No moon to mark the sailor’s cry,  

No star to watch the storm drift by.  

So light no lamp and speak no prayer  

If fog and bells are in the air.  

For Whitby’s bride still walks the shore—  

And Dracula is never far from door.