“But fast we fled, away, away—
“And I could neither sigh nor pray;
“And my cold sweat-drops fell like rain
“Upon the courser’s bristling mane;
“But, snorting still with rage and fear,
“He flew upon his far career:
“At times I almost thought, indeed,
“He must have slacken’d in his speed;
“But no—my bound and slender frame450
“Was nothing to his angry might,
“And merely like a spur became:
“Each motion which I made to free
“My swoln limbs from their agony
“Increased his fury and affright:
“I tried my voice,—’twas faint and low,
“But yet he swerved as from a blow;
“And, starting to each accent, sprang
“As from a sudden trumpet’s clang:
“Meantime my cords were wet with gore,460
“Which, oozing through my limbs, ran o’er;
“And in my tongue the thirst became
“A something fierier far than flame.
