IV.

My casque I dofft to scoop the fount, Angelica! With beaded pureness bubbling cool-- It clashed into the purling pool;-- Thy name lay chiseled in the rock, And underneath-- And then meseemed deep night did block My steel-chained heart in one huge mount Foreshadowing death!-- _Medoro_ deep in every rock! The Moorish name my soul did mock, Angelica!