His timid followers from their labors flee,—
All fear within the fiend’s control to stay;
For who but Chepian’s Priest can Chepian sway?”
XXXIII.
So spake Canonicus, the wise and old,—
While shouts on shouts a full accordance shewed,—
Then turned and sought the late forsaken hold;
Our Sire, the matron, and her charge pursued;
The ready tribes, behind them forming, rolled
In march triumphant onward through the wood,