At midnight, by moonlight, that path can be crossed,
By her, who heroic, ne'er counteth the cost.
Oh, chilly the ocean, and lonely the hour,
Or the charm that thou seekest is reft of its power;
And voiceless and mute thine endeavours must be,
Or fruitless thy labours and harmful to thee.
Yet, maiden, forbear! ere thou challenge the spell
Remember—with thee and with thine it is well!
In thee and thy love the blind monarch is blest:
Then dwell in his palace—Fidunia—at rest.