 | Mansoul or The Riddle of the World |  |
That woolly drift
Of sheep, soon spersed is with his sons: and left
Is Cædmon lone, upleaning on his bat.
He, in his spirit, méditates some new chant
For Hilda, his venerable agéd Abbess.
Of sheep, soon spersed is with his sons: and left
Is Cædmon lone, upleaning on his bat.
He, in his spirit, méditates some new chant
For Hilda, his venerable agéd Abbess.
| Mansoul or The Riddle of the World | |