Nor dare with reckless step to stray,
'Mid these lone realms of fear and shade!
You go not, and you seek to hear,
Why one like me should idly roam,
'Mid scenes like these, so dark, so drear—
These rocks my bed, these woods my home?
IV.
"One crime hath twined with serpent coil
Around my heart its fatal fold;
And though my struggling bosom toil,