THE Book IV. In such disquiet and hart-fretting payne He all that night, that too long night, did passe. The signes of anguish one mote plainely read, Unto his lofty steede he clombe anone, But here my wearie teeme, nigh over spent, |
THE Book IV. In such disquiet and hart-fretting payne He all that night, that too long night, did passe. The signes of anguish one mote plainely read, Unto his lofty steede he clombe anone, But here my wearie teeme, nigh over spent, |