With his huge tail the troubled waves so sore The monster beats, that they ascend heaven-high;
And the knight knows not if he swim, or soar Upon his feathered courser in mid sky;
And oft were fain to find himself ashore:
For, if long time the spray so thickly fly, He fears it so will bathe his hippogryph, That he shall vainly covet gourd or skiff.
