 | Alfred |  |
Alfred mildly cried,
‘I chid thee but to teach how harder far
‘To bear Heaven's chiding. Now thy mind is chang'd,
‘And thou dost see how mutable the man
‘Who on himself doth rest, when the hour comes
‘Of sore temptation. I am yet thy friend.’
‘I chid thee but to teach how harder far
‘To bear Heaven's chiding. Now thy mind is chang'd,
‘And thou dost see how mutable the man
259
‘Of sore temptation. I am yet thy friend.’
| Alfred | |