Will move a lord and lady of degree.
She springs—she flings her fair, etherial form
Upon his breast, which once, with love, was warm—
But now curst love of gold has surely chilled,
The heart that once her love so wildly thrilled.
Her long, fair locks, distracted, stream below,
Her gushing tears like wintry torrents, flow:
Her Herbert steels his heart against their power,—
The ship that wafts him sails, ere morning's hour.
At length he hails the longed for, distant shore;