IV.

Selled on a barb whose trappings shone Red brass,--a morning star of jousts Upon the dawning beaming lone Burst from the hills' empurpled crusts. A lying star, whose double tongue Was slave to gold: "I saw him die!-- 'Tis ruth, for he was brave and young,-- I saw him in the close clay lie." Then passed he rattling from the court.... So grief in furrows ploughed her front's Smooth surface wan, and toward the eve,-- The bloodshot eve upon the mounts, Who o'er day's flow'ry bier did grieve And bow her melancholy star,-- O'er teenful eyes she bent the light Of her crown-crescent's gem, and far She lingered till the full-mooned night Showered ripple-stars the gray mere o'er.