Book, Chapter

1    4, 123|   might yield yellow gold~'Twas held as a foe. While the
2    4, 123| and character's downfall,~'Twas not the defeat of a man!
3    5, 135|    their chattering flow.~'Twas Love's own nook,~As forest
4    5, 136|    might have done before~'Twas now impossible to do;~For,
5    5, 139|    With willow wickerwork 'twas set around,~New cups of
6    5, 140|   the death of the goose.~'Twas thus, I ween, the birds
7    5, 153|    knows I'm not in fault~'Twas she who gave the first assault~