The more he heard he loved to hear the more.
And there he is, his hoary beard adrift
To the night winds, that sportingly do lift
Its snow-white tresses; and he leaneth on
A rugged staff, all weakly and alone,
A childless, friendless man!
He is beside
The ghastly Julio and his ghastlier bride.
’Twas wond’rous strange to gaze upon the two!
And the old hermit felt a throbbing through