VIII.
And we rove not now on a lawless quest,
With passions foul in the hero's breast,
Moved by no greed at the fiend's behest,
Gloating in lust o'er a bloody prey;
But from tyrant robber the spoil to wrest,
And tear down his despot sway!
And we rove not now on a lawless quest,
With passions foul in the hero's breast,
Moved by no greed at the fiend's behest,
Gloating in lust o'er a bloody prey;
But from tyrant robber the spoil to wrest,
And tear down his despot sway!