Leaning to look into her tomb, thereon
She saw the horror of her image wan,
And up she rose at height to leap from shore.
11
When suddenly a mighty voice, that fell
With fury on her ears, their sense to scare,
That bounding from the tree trunks like the yell
Of hundred brazen trumpets, cried ‘Forbear!
Forbear, fond maid, that froward step to take,
For life can cure the ills that love may make;