The Equinox (Volume I, Number III)

84 XXXII “Hal” cries the knight, “ may patient toil Of brain dissolve this cruel coil! In Afric they that chase the ostrich Clothe them with feathers, subtly foil Its vigilance, come close, then dart Its death upon it. Brave my heart! Do thus!” And so the knight disguises Himself, on hands and knees doth start His hunt, goes questing up and down. So in the fields the peasant clown Flies, shrieking, from that dreadful figure. But when he came to any town They caged him for a lunatic. Quod he: ‘‘ Would God I had the trick! The beast escaped from my devices ; I will the same. The bars are thick, But I am strong.” He wrenched in vain; Then—what is this? What wild, sharp strain Smites on the air? The prison smashes. Hark! ’tis the Questing Beast again !