previous next


He like a thievish dog creeps sadly thence; (737)

She like a wearied lamb lies panting there; (738)

He scowls and hates himself for his offence; (739)

She, desperate, with her nails her flesh doth tear; (740)

He faintly flies, sweating with guilty fear;
She stays, exclaiming on the direful night; (742)

He runs, and chides his vanish'd, loathed delight.

Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 United States License.

An XML version of this text is available for download, with the additional restriction that you offer Perseus any modifications you make. Perseus provides credit for all accepted changes, storing new additions in a versioning system.

hide Display Preferences
Greek Display:
Arabic Display:
View by Default:
Browse Bar: