Like As A Flamelet Blanketed In Smoke, So Through The Anaesthetic Shows My Life; So Flashes And So Fades My Thought, At Strife With The Strong Stupor That I Heave And Choke And Sicken At, It Is So Foully Sweet. Faces Look Strange From Space - And Disappear. Far Voices, Sudden Loud, Offend My Ear - And Hush As Sudden. Then My Senses Fleet: All Were A Blank, Save For This Dull, New Pain That Grinds My Leg And Foot; And Brokenly Time And The Place Glimpse On To Me Again; And, Unsurprised, Out Of Uncertainty, I Wake - Relapsing - Somewhat Faint And Fain, To An Immense, Complacent Dreamery.