And, tired enough, she sat down awhile;
Till, non se ipse, all care she defied,
For she drank so much, that she hiccupped and died.
Erin’s Chivalry.
Rich and rare were the arms she bore:
A brace of Colts at her waist she wore;
And, oh! her beauty was hidden with fear,
As on she fled like a hunted deer.
Lady, why dost thou fear to stray,