Recks

"There rest they, nor their sequence change, nor place, / save when, by chance, on grating hinge the door / swings open, and a light breath sweeps the floor, / or rougher blasts the tender leaves disperse. / Loose then they flutter, for she recks no more / to call them back, and rearrange the verse; / untaught the votaries leave, the Sibyl's cave to curse."