Tired and woe-begone, 5
Hoarse with making moan,
Arm in arm seven days
They trac'd the desart ways.
Seven nights they sleep 9
Among shadows deep,
And dream they see their child
Starv'd in desart wild.
Pale, thro' pathless ways 13
The fancied image strays
Famish'd, weeping, weak,
With hollow piteous shriek.
Rising from unrest, 17
The trembling woman prest
With feet of weary woe :
She could no further go.
In his arms he bore ai
Her, arm'd with sorrow sore ;
Till before their way
A couching lion lay.
Turning back was vain: 25
Soon his heavy mane
Bore them to the ground.
Then he stalk'd around,
Smelling to his prey ; 39
But their fears allay
When he licks their hands.
And silent by them stands.
They look upon his eyes 33
Fill'd with deep surprise ;
And wondering behold
A spirit arm'd in gold.
sorrow] sorrows DGR. 26 his] the Wilk.
