Sir Palamedes

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.