For Peter judged, with monuments around,
The dead must surely in the place be found:—
“With cold to shiver, and with hunger pine!
‘We’ll see the rooms,’ she said, ‘before we dine;’
And spake so kind! That window gives no light: }
Here is enough the boldest man to fright; }
It hardly now is day, and soon it will be night.” 630}
Deeply he sigh’d, nor from his heart could chase
The dread of dying in that dismal place;
Anger and sorrow in his bosom strove,