From the swift Barry, tumbling down apace
Amongst the woody hills of Dynevoure;
But dare thou not, I charge, in any case,
To enter into that same baleful bower,
For fear the cruel fiendes should thee unwares devour!
But, standing high aloft, low lay thine eare,
And there such ghastly noise of iron chaines
And brazen caudrons thou shalt rombling heare,
Which thousand sprites with long-enduring paines
Doe tosse, that it will stun thy feeble braines;