[III.]

Was it some sweet device of Faëry

That mock'd my steps with many a lonely glade,

And fancied wanderings with a fair-hair'd maid?

Have these things been? or what rare witchery,

Impregning with delights the charmèd air,

Enlighted up the semblance of a smile

In those fine eyes? methought they spake the while

Soft soothing things, which might enforce despair

To drop the murdering knife, and let go by