 | Silenus |  |
But the king's hate had rooted into life,
And grown throughout his being, as the veins
That pulsed a net of movement thro' his frame;
And wasteful as to woo a hurricane
Laden with blight to spare the buds of spring,
Is strife with enmity at highest tide.
And grown throughout his being, as the veins
That pulsed a net of movement thro' his frame;
And wasteful as to woo a hurricane
Laden with blight to spare the buds of spring,
Is strife with enmity at highest tide.
| Silenus | |