This punishment pursues the unhappy maid,
And thus the purple hair is dearly paid.
Ravens.
Then thrice the ravens rend the liquid air,
And croaking notes proclaim the settled fair;
Then ’round their airy palaces they fly
To greet the sun; and, seized with secret joy,
When storms are overblown, with food repair
To their forsaken nests and callow care.
Not that I think their breasts with heavenly souls