XXIV.

But he, from day to day, more anxious grew. The voice still seemed to vibrate on his ear. Nor durst he hope the Hermit's tale untrue; For man he seemed to love, and heaven to fear; And none speaks false, where there is none to hear. 'Yet, can man's gentle heart become so fell? 'No more in vain conjecture let me wear 'My hours away, but seek the Hermit's cell; 'Tis he my doubt can clear, perhaps my care dispel.'