Now glared his eye with fearful purpose—swift
He caught her wrist—she screamed again: “Thou’lt come
“With me!” he said—she struggled—he did lift
Her in his arms, where swooned the maid struck dumb
With terror—to a steed he bore her from
The bower, upon its shoulder laid her form,
Then sprang to the saddle ere her senses numb
Revived, and galloped swift his courser warm,
Till on an ocean-cliff he stood ’neath gathering storm.
X.