And in these words prophetic thoughts express’d:
‘O Daughter, many sorrows yet abide,
Ere fortune’s stream upbears thee on its tide.’
Thus spoke my father; but his form withdrew;
No longer offered to my eager view.
Though oft in vain with soothing voice I call,
And stretch my hands to heaven’s cerulean hall.
Oppressed, and struggling, and with sick’ning heart.
At once the vision and my sleep depart.’”
“With ceaseless care, eager alike to reign,