Chapter 126 No.126

Now wound the path its dizzy ledge

Around a precipice's edge,

When lo! a wasted female form,

505 Blighted by wrath of sun and storm,

In tattered weeds and wild array,

Stood on a cliff beside the way,

And glancing round her restless eye,

Upon the wood, the rock, the sky,

510 Seemed naught to mark, yet all to spy.

Her brow