🕦 by 极速赛车信誉老平台 at 2023-03-24
As the troop with strange gestures advance,And a rattle and clatter anon rises high,
How kindly thou my yearning then didst still
His grandson of whom we are telling.The Count as Crusader had blazon'd his fame,Through many a triumph exalted his name,And when on his steed to his dwelling he came,
And seeks the forest green,Proof of imprisonment he bears behind him,A morsel of the thread once used to bind him;
And the rocks gave back the song,So la, Ia! &c.
Free from storm, but resting never:To thy sorrow thou'rt to-day repell'd
I placed my trust in women next,
Ah, within her arms remember me!
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