Which strangely now it wandered round,
With wild, unresting pace?
XXVIII.
“Oh, here must be some warning meant,
Which do not now deride:
Oh, yet have pity, and relent,
Nor speak such words of pride!”
XXIX.
Slight heed his tale of fear might find,
Which strangely now it wandered round,
With wild, unresting pace?
XXVIII.
“Oh, here must be some warning meant,
Which do not now deride:
Oh, yet have pity, and relent,
Nor speak such words of pride!”
XXIX.
Slight heed his tale of fear might find,