XXXIX.
“The ravening kite so swoops and plunders, when
“Hovering above the sheltered yard, she spies
“A helpless chicken near unwatchful hen,
“Who vainly dins the thief with after cries.
“I cannot reach the mountain-robber’s den,
“Compassed with cliffs, or follow one who flies.
“Besides, way-foundered is my weary steed,
“Who ’mid these rocks has wasted wind and speed.
XL.
“But I, like one who from his bleeding side
“Would liefer far have seen his heart out-torn,
“Left my good squadrons masterless, to ride
“Along the cliffs, and passes least forlorn;
“And took the way (love served me for a guide)
“Where it appeared the ruthless thief had born,
“Ascending to his den, the lovely prey,
“What time he snatched my hope and peace away.
XLI.
“Six days I rode, from morn to setting sun,
“By horrid cliff, by bottom dark and drear;
“And giddy precipice, where path was none,
“Nor sign, nor vestiges of man were near.
“At last a dark and barren vale I won,
“Where caverned mountains and rude cliffs appear:
“Where in the middle rose a rugged block,
“With a fair castle planted on the rock.
