land: what sayest thou? The witch neither moved nor spake

And the Promethean clay by thief endued,

By old Saturnus' forelock, by his head

Shook with eternal palsy, I did wed

Myself to things of light from infancy;

And thus to be cast out, thus lorn to die,

Is sure enough to make a mortal man

Grow impious." So he inwardly began

On things for which no wording can be found;