1.

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.
2.

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.
3.

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.
4.

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.
5.

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.
6.

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.
7.

But there is none — no knight in panoply,

Nor Love, intrench’d in his strong steely coat:

No little speck — no sail — no helper nigh,

No sign — no whispering — no plash of boat:—

The distant shores show dimly and remote,

Made of a deeper mist — serene and gray —

And slow and mute the cloudy shadows float

Over the gloomy wave, and pass away,

Chased by the silver beams that on their marges play.
8.

And bright and silvery the willows sleep

Over the shady verge — no mad winds tease

Their hoary heads; but quietly they weep

Their sprinkling leaves — half fountains and half trees:

Their lilies be — and fairer than all these,

A solitary Swan her breast of snow

Launches against the wave that seems to freeze

Into a chaste reflection, still below

Twin shadow of herself wherever she may go.
9.

And forth she paddles in the very noon

Of solemn midnight like an elfin thing,

Charm’d into being by the argent moon —

Whose silver light for love of her fair wing

Goes with her in the shade, still worshipping

Her dainty plumage:— all around her grew

A radiant circlet, like a fairy ring;

And all behind, a tiny little clue

Of light, to guide her back across the waters blue.
10.

And sure she is no meaner than a fay,

Redeem’d from sleepy death, for beauty’s sake,

By old ordainment:— silent as she lay,

Touched by a moonlight wand I saw her wake,

And cut her leafy slough, and so forsake

The verdant prison of her lily peers,

That slept amidst the stars upon the lake —

A breathing shape — restored to human fears,

And new-born love and grief — self-conscious of her tears.
11.

And now she clasps her wings around her heart,

And near that lonely isle begins to glide,

Pale as her fears, and oft-times with a start

Turns her impatient head from side to side

In universal terrors — all too wide

To watch; and often to that marble keep

Upturns her pearly eyes, as if she spied

Some foe, and crouches in the shadows steep

That in the gloomy wave go diving fathoms deep.
12.

And well she may, to spy that fearful thing

All down the dusky walls in circlets wound;

Alas! for what rare prize, with many a ring

Girding the marble casket round and round?

His folded tail, lost in the gloom profound,

Terribly darkeneth the rocky base;

But on the top his monstrous head is crown’d

With prickly spears, and on his doubtful face

Gleam his unwearied eyes, red watchers of the place.
13.

Alas! of the hot fires that nightly fall,

No one will scorch him in those orbs of spite,

So he may never see beneath the wall

That timid little creature, all too bright,

That stretches her fair neck, slender and white,

Invoking the pale moon, and vainly tries

Her throbbing throat, as if to charm the night

With song — but, hush — it perishes in sighs,

And there will be no dirge sad-swelling, though she dies!
14.

She droops — she sinks — she leans upon the lake,

Fainting again into a lifeless flower;

But soon the chilly springs anoint and wake

Her spirit from its death, and with new power

She sheds her stifled sorrows in a shower

Of tender song, timed to her falling tears —

That wins the shady summit of that tower,

And, trembling all the sweeter for its fears,

Fills with imploring moan that cruel monster’s ears.
15.

And, lo! the scaly beast is all deprest,

Subdued like Argus by the might of sound —

What time Apollo his sweet lute addrest

To magic converse with the air, and bound

The many monster eyes, all slumber-drown’d:—

So on the turret-top that watchful Snake

Pillows his giant head, and lists profound,

As if his wrathful spite would never wake,

Charm’d into sudden sleep for Love and Beauty’s sake!
16.

His prickly crest lies prone upon his crown,

And thirsty lip from lip disparted flies,

To drink that dainty flood of music down —

His scaly throat is big with pent-up sighs —

And whilst his hollow ear entranced lies,

His looks for e............