I Would Sooner Fail Than Not Be

No Stir Of Air Was There, Not So Much Life As On A Summer's Day Robs Not One Light Seed From The Feather'd Grass, But Where The Dead Leaf Fell, There Did It Rest.

So Rainbow-sided, Touch'd With Miseries, She Seem'd, At Once, Some Penanced Lady Elf, Some Demon's Mistress, Or The Demon's Self.

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!

Closer Of Lovely Eyes To Lovely Dreams, Lover Of Loneliness, And Wandering, Of Upcast Eye, And Tender Pondering! Thee Must I Praise Above All Other Glories That Smile Us On To Tell Delightful Stories.

The Opinion I Have Of The Generality Of Women--who Appear To Me As Children To Whom I Would Rather Give A Sugar Plum Than My Time, Forms A Barrier Against Matrimony Which I Rejoice In.