A look whose worth a realm surpassed ;
She sat beside him like a rose,
In fair but now fast wasting Greece,
Wild and luxuriant that grows
Beside a fallen Hercules.
At length from deathly swoon he wakes,
Looks round amazed, and hurried speaks.
Alas ! his eyes, but late so mild,
Have suddenly grown fixed and wild.
"Where am I ? Girl, what wouldst thou have ?
No woman's eye may rest on me,
No tears of thine my wounds may lave !
To Charles I've sworn it solemnly.
My father walks the Milky Way !
He's wroth ! that oath he heard me say !
And yet how fair to mortal sense
The enchantress ! Demon ! get thee hence !
Where is my belt ? My letter and —
'Twas written by the king's own hand !
My father's sword is good ! It bites