RINGS of high heroes casqued for combat, rings
Whose rubies like Hell's blood and brimstone glare,
When, like a Sabbath of lewd witches, blare
The trumpets under standards' open wings!
Rings of old, white-haired men where candles rise,
Red cardinals who the pomp do consecrate
With lifted arms rigid with papal state,
And with the blue disdain in virgins' eyes!
Rings of gold queens in samite black arrayed,
Whose pearled fingers star their missals' print,
While moonbeams through the stained-glass oriel glint,
And in the castle's organ thunders fade!
