LXXXI.
They came to Julian, and with honied guise
Flatter'd him to restore the risen maid;
Seek ye to charm the eagle of his prize,
Within his eyrie on the mountain laid;
But Love, more strong, all sapping art defies,
Nor ever from its fixëd trust is sway'd!
They came with arms, they came with vengeful threats,
Poor fluttering dove! what danger thee besets.