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CANTO IV.
I.
N Acta's realm a cry of fear was heard, "What mean these troublous voices of the sea?Wilder than shriek of battling ocean-bird They utter prophecies of woes to be; They call, they answer—'Who shall help decree?Behold the wings of swift despair outspread! Sleep shall make bond the souls that yet are free:Deep sighs there be, low-breathed among the dead,With whisperings faint they rise, the dewless winds they tread!'"
N Acta's realm a cry of fear was heard, "What mean these troublous voices of the sea?Wilder than shriek of battling ocean-bird They utter prophecies of woes to be; They call, they answer—'Who shall help decree?Behold the wings of swift despair outspread! Sleep shall make bond the souls that yet are free:Deep sighs there be, low-breathed among the dead,With whisperings faint they rise, the dewless winds they tread!'"II.And pale were Acta's children: "Lo," they cried, "The sun, at noon, has worn the veil of night!Nor now in steadfast state the stars abide,
