I saw a bevy of white-headed men,
Who strove in vain to free their tortured frames
From that encircling mire. "Back, sage," I cried,
"Let us return or we shall perish too! "
"Fear not," quoth he. "You had this torment oft
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On earth; 't is now their turn to expiate.
Besides, there is a plank that leads across
This puddle, which we are allowed to follow."
Then as we went, those creatures full of spite
Strove to assail us with great clods of earth;
But Bohn exclaimed, "Nay, don't throw mud !"
And they, reproved, were quiet. After that
I spied an aged man who in his hand
Carried a bunch of ripe Catawba grapes,
Wherewith to feed his hens. Ungrateful they
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