Love ere he bleeds, an eagle in high skies, br Has earth beneath his wings: from reddened eve br He views the rosy dawn. In vain they weave br The fatal web below while far he flies. br But when the arrow strikes him, there's a change. br He moves but in the track of his spent pain, br Whose red drops are the links of a harsh chain, br Binding him to the ground, with narrow range. br A subtle serpent then has Love become. br I had the eagle in my bosom erst: br Henceforward with the serpent I am cursed. br I can interpret where the mouth is dumb. br Speak, and I see the side-lie of a truth.