Immortal Imogen, crown’d queen above
  The lilies of thy sex, vouchsafe to hear
  A fairy dream in honor of true love—­
  True above ills, and frailty, and all fear,—­
  Perchance a shadow of his own career
  Whose youth was darkly prison’d and long-twined
  By serpent-sorrow, till white Love drew near,
  And sweetly sang him free, and round his mind
A bright horizon threw, wherein no grief may wind.

II.

  I saw a tower builded on a lake,
  Mock’d by its inverse shadow, dark and deep—­
  That seem’d a still intenser night to make,
  Wherein the quiet waters sank to sleep,—­
  And, whatso’er was prison’d in that keep,
  A monstrous Snake was warden:—­round and round
  In sable ringlets I beheld him creep
  Blackest amid black shadows to the ground,
Whilst his enormous head, the topmost turret crown’d.

III.

  From whence he shot fierce light against the stars,
  Making the pale moon paler with affright;
  And with his ruby eye out-threaten’d Mars—­
  That blaz’d in the mid-heavens, hot and bright—­
  Nor slept, nor wink’d, but with a steadfast spite
  Watch’d their wan looks and tremblings in the skies;
  And that he might not slumber in the night,
  The curtain-lids were pluck’d from his large eyes,
So he might never drowse, but watch his secret prize.

IV.

  Prince or princess in dismal durance pent,
  Victims of old Enchantment’s love or hate,
  Their lives must all in painful sighs be spent,
  Watching the lonely waters soon and late,
  And clouds that pass and leave them to their fate,
  Or company their grief with heavy tears:—­
  Meanwhile that Hope can spy no golden gate
  For sweet escapement, but in darksome fears
They weep and pine away as if immortal years.

V.

  No gentle bird with gold upon its wing
  Will perch upon the grate—­the gentle bird
  Is safe in leafy dell, and will not bring
  Freedom’s sweet key-note and commission-word
  Learn’d of a fairy’s lips, for pity stirr’d—­
  Lest while he trembling sings, untimely guest! 
  Watch’d by that cruel Snake and darkly heard,
  He leave a widow on her lonely nest,
To press in silent grief the darlings of her breast.

VI.

  No gallant knight, adventurous, in his bark,
  Will seek the fruitful perils of the place,
  To rouse with dipping oar the waters dark
  That bear that serpent image on their face. 
  And Love, brave Love! though he attempt the base,
  Nerved to his loyal death, he may not win
  His captive lady from the strict embrace
  Of that foul Serpent, clasping her within
His sable folds—­like Eve enthrall’d by the old Sin.