Canto

1     1|      me nor fruit nor blossom hangs,~Why should I longer pine
2    11|    mess, or sup~A drop, which hangs upon the luscious cup.~ ~
3    13| branches with his glaive,~And hangs the thieves, a banquet for
4    16|      goes, and for long space~Hangs on his neck, fast-locked
5    19|       hunters wage,~Uncertain hangs about her shaggy care,~And
6    20|  courser, who in pensive fit,~Hangs down his ears, controlled
7    24|      all the arms unites,~And hangs, like a fair trophy, on
8    24|  while the sword descends, or hangs on high,~Zerbino stands,
9    25|      he turns his eyes,~Which hangs declined and wet with frequent