able
To twist the links in a mighty mat
With which he bent the forest flat
From Nahma-kanta to Depsiconneag
—Acres and acres—league after league;
Striding abroad from peak to dale
And laying on with his mighty flail.
Oh, fie for the shade of the manored hall,
A fig for a Thing in a grave-creased pall,
—For wraiths that flitter and flutter and sigh,