Ginevra

Wild, pale, and wonder-stricken, even as one Who staggers forth into the air and sun From the dark chamber of a mortal fever, Bewildered, and incapable, and ever Fancying strange comments in her dizzy brain Of usual shapes, till the familiar train Of objects and of persons passed like things Strange as a dreamer's mad imaginings, Ginevra from the nuptial altar went; The vows to which her lips had sworn assent Rung in her brain still with a jarring din, Deafening the lost intelligence within.…