This side paradise
dousing I went times ago
bright douse and witchwood aldering,
loosing adders long of fang and bitter
venomous, unrepentent seeking gleaming
nopareils and gleaning parities
arrayed of seeming majesty, in quest
of perilous and peerless dowsabelle;

dawed misbehavour of an evening,
niggled all the cluttered mischief
of a dazzled starry night, dispelled
as ever of the morning's light, proved
as proved it must an arid waste of snow
I came to know, smooth grey stones
and pebbles by dawn played out
at odds inample to hazards borne
lissome as they were sundry likely
villainies that storied drift me
Dulcinea, mine dulce Isabel, douce
Isabeau, digne dowsabelle;

so sent for Pontus, this side paradise,
now go cold in the quietness minivered
less of royalty than penury and clad
of stylite's hairshirt, glad thereof,
not even dustyfooted for companionship;
alone undoused, undowsing and undowsabelled,
alone to earn my scallop-shell
upon a different seashore
this side hell.