Chapter 111 No.111

And, as they came, with Alpine's Lord

The Hermit Monk held solemn word:

110 "Roderick! it is a fearful strife,

For man endowed with mortal life,

Whose shroud of sentient clay can still

Feel feverish pang and fainting chill,

Whose eye can stare in stony trance,

115 Whose hair can rouse like warrior's lance-

'Tis hard for such