Chapter 38 of 194 · 88 words · ~1 min read

VII.

Lovely, and gentle, and distressed— These charms might tame the fiercest breast; Harpers have sung, and poets told, That he, in fury uncontrolled, The shaggy monarch of the wood, Before a virgin, fair and good, Hath pacified his savage mood. But passions in the human frame Oft put the lion’s rage to shame: And jealousy, by dark intrigue, With sordid avarice in league, Had practised with their bowl and knife Against the mourner’s harmless life. This crime was charged ’gainst those who lay Prisoned in Cuthbert’s islet grey.