The Silver, Snarling Trumpets 'gan To Chide.

So Rainbow-sided, Touch'd With Miseries, She Seem'd, At Once, Some Penanced Lady Elf, Some Demon's Mistress, Or The Demon's Self.

I Saw Pale Kings And Princes Too, Pale Warriors, Death-pale Were They All; They Cried- "la Belle Dame Sans Merci Hath Thee In Thrall!

Thou, Silent Form, Dost Tease Us Out Of Thought As Doth Eternity.

Knowledge Enormous Makes A God Of Me.

Now A Soft Kiss - Aye, By That Kiss, I Vow An Endless Bliss.