The sea’s wide-stretching plains, she once descried
A gallant vessel plough the neighbouring tide.
By cries to draw it near she long essay’d,
And oft a palm-bough waved in sign for aid:
But all her cries and all her signs were vain;
On sail’d the bark, nor e’er return’d again!
On that same rock she sat, and eyed the wave,
And wish’d she there had found her wat’ry grave!
Fain had she sought one then, plunged from the steep.
And buried all her sufferings in the deep;