Which round her own unconscious clung,
Then fondly gaz'd, and softly sung:
Once like that sea, which ebbs and flows,
My bosom never knew repose,
And heavily each morn arose.
I bore with anger and disdain,
I had no power to break my chain,
No one to whom I dar'd complain.
And when some bird has caught my eye,
Or distant sail been flitting by,