E’en thou mightst then relent, and deem, at last,
A grief like mine might expiate all the past
“But oh! for thee, the loved and precious flower,
So fondly rear’d in luxury’s guarded bower,
From every danger, every storm secured,
How hast thou suffer’d! what hast thou endured!
Daughter of palaces! and can it be
That this bleak desert is a home for thee!
These rocks thy dwelling! thou, who shouldst have known
Of life the sunbeam and the smile alone!