While thou art roving, wretched and forlorn,
Thy couch the dewy earth, thy roof the forest thorn!"
Then Artegal thus spake: "I only sought,
Within this realm a place of safe retreat;
Beware of rousing an ambitious thought;
Beware of kindling hopes, for me unmeet!
Thou art reputed wise, but in my mind
Art pitiably blind:
Full soon this generous purpose thou may'st rue,
When that which has been done[63] no wishes can undo.