Chapter 100 of 280 · 56 words · ~1 min read

VI.

He who of old would rend the oak, Dreamed not of the rebound;[250] Chained by the trunk he vainly broke-- Alone--how looked he round? Thou, in the sternness of thy strength, An equal deed hast done at length. And darker fate hast found: He fell, the forest prowlers' prey; But thou must eat thy heart away!