Chapter 85 No.85

The shout was hushed on lake and fell,

The Monk resumed his muttered spell;

225 Dismal and low its accents came,

The while he scathed the Cross with flame:

And the few words that reached the air,

Although the holiest name was there,

Had more of blasphemy than prayer.

230 But when he shook above the crowd

Its kindled points,