SIR PALAMEDES, THE SARACEN KNIGHT
They swarm, they grow, they multiply;
The strong knight’s brain goes all a-swim,
Paced by that maddening minstrelsy,
Those dog-like demons hunting him.
The last bar breaks; the steel will snaps ;
The black hordes riot in his brain ;
A thousand threatening thunder-claps
Smite him—insane—insane—insane |!
His muscles roar with senseless rage;
The pale knight staggers, deathly sick;
Reels to the light that sorry sage,
Sir Palamede the Lunatick.