Knows the faithless man, whose eyes,
With a forward friendship twinkling,
Fawn with watery love.[n62]
For me, I nothing hide. O King,
In my fancy’s picturing,
From the Muses far I deemed thee,
And thy soul not wisely helming
When thou drew’st the knife
For Helen’s sake, a woman, whelming
Thousands in ruin, rushing rashly