Xvii

With despair's mute self-reliance, She accepted death's affiance; She, who hath no home or rest, Shrank not from the river's breast.

Haply there she shall discover Father, lost in wilds unknown, Mother slain, and youthful lover, Seen as yet in dreams alone.

Ha! sweet maid, what sudden vision Hath dispelled thy cold derision? What new picture hast thou seen, Of a world that might have been?