Page:Carroll - Phantasmagoria and other poems (1869).djvu/184

172 And, in my dream, with silvery voice,
 * She said, or seemed to say,

"Youth is the season to rejoice—"
 * I could not choose but stay;
 * I could not say her nay.

She plucked a branch above her head,
 * With rarest fruitage laden:

"Drink of the juice, Sir Knight," she said,
 * "'Tis good for knight and maiden."

Oh, blind mine eye that would not trace—
 * And deaf mine ear that would not heed—

The mocking smile upon her face,
 * The mocking voice of greed!

I drank the juice, and straightway felt
 * A fire within my brain;

My soul within me seemed to melt
 * In sweet delirious pain.