To drag that palfrey ceased he not, though dead, Continuing still his course towards the west, And all this while sacked hamlet, farm, and stead, Whenever he by hunger was distrest;
And aye to glut himself with meat, and bread, And fruit, he every one by force opprest.
One by his hand was slain, one foully shent;
Seldom he stopt, and ever onward went.
