Canto

1     1|   enters a deep wood, whose branches play,~Moved lightly by the
2     3|    Thy line through all its branches to pursue,~Fair virgin,
3     6|    nightingales among those branches wing~Their flight, and safely
4    13|    throws.~Orlando lops the branches with his glaive,~And hangs
5    13| chin up-hung,~These, on the branches, bold Orlando strung.~ ~
6    21|     A rustic bier of sturdy branches spread.~Their master upon
7    37|    And, where the main-road branches, and one way~Towards the
8    46|  noble house,~Those kindred branches that fresh know to view.~