What is dark within me, illumine.

Heav'nly love shall outdoo Hellish hate

Fairy damsels met in forest wide / By knights of Logres, or of Lyones, / Lancelot or Pelleas, or Pellenore.

Now conscience wakes despair That slumber'd,-wakes the bitter memory Of what he was, what is, and what must be Worse.

Which, if not victory, is yet revenge.

The redundant locks, robustious to no purpose, clustering down--vast monument of strength.

A crown Golden in show, is but a wreath of thorns, Bring dangers, troubles, cares, and sleepless nights To him who wears the regal diadem