Chapter 56 of 163 · 52 words · ~1 min read

XI.

'Just heaven!' said I, 'to thy awards I bow, For truth and vengeance are thine own alone; Are these the wreaths thou deignest to bestow On bard, whose life and lays to virtue prone, Have never turn'd aside on devious way? Is this the high reward, to be of fools the prey?'