Shalt now be fed and kept alight with shame,

And flicker evermore.

Then did appear

Her set smile’s irony, and I discerned

Through those her long dark languid eyes, right clear

How far below her soul forever burned.

Her sleeves of scarlet hung in many a shred;

Her silver chains were all to tarnish turned,

And crisped were the laurels on her head.

“Alas! why camest thou to this place of pain,—