His Religion At Best Is

O For The Gentleness Of Old Romance, The Simple Planning Of A Minstrel's Song!

Turn The Key Deftly In The Oiled Wards, And Seal The Hushed Casket Of My Soul.

I Saw Pale Kings And Princes Too, Pale Warriors, Death-pale Were They All; They Cried- "la Belle Dame Sans Merci Hath Thee In Thrall!

Fanatics Have Their Dreams, Wherewith They Weave A Paradise For A Sect.

Many Have Original Minds Who Do Not Think It - They Are Led Away By Custom!