In A Kingdom Of Mist And Moonlight, Or Ever The World Was Known, Past Leagues Of Unsailed Water, There Reigned A King With A Daughter That Shone Like A Starry Stone. The Day Grew Out O' The Moonlight; But Never A Day Was There. The King Was Wise As Hoary, And His Daughter, Like The Glory Of Seven Kingdoms, Fair. And The Night Dimmed Over The Moonlight, - And Ever The Mist Was Gray, - With Slips Of Dull Stars, Bluer Where The Princess Met Her Wooer, A Page Like The Month O' May. In Her Eyes The Mist, And The Moonlight In Hair Of A Crumpled Gold; By Day They Wooed A-Hawking, A-Hawking Laughed, A-Mocking The Good, White King And Old. On The Sea The Mist, And The Moonlight Poured Pale To The Lilies' Tips; - At Eve, When The Hawks Were Feeding, In Courts To The Kennels Leading, He Kissed Her Mouth And Lips. On Towers The Mist, And The Moonlight On A Dead Face Staring Up; - His Kingly Couch Was Ready, But And Her Hand Was Steady Giving The Poisoned Cup.