She never breath’d nor look’d complaint;
No equal upon earth had she -
Now, what is this fair thing I paint?
Alas! as all that live shall be.
There was, beside, a gallant youth,
And him my bosom’s friend I had; -
Oh! I was rich in very truth,
It made me proud - it made me mad! -
Yes, I was lost - but there was cause! -
Where stood my tale? - I cannot find -