The Wife of Richard sat retired;
And from her wretched regal seat,
In notes by sorrow render’d sweet,
Pour’d to Prince Edward’s shade her plaintive soul;
And deeply grieves that e’er she found,
Like Eve, the soft beguiling sound
Of the keen serpent’s voice, which gently stole
Within her heart, her duty to betray;
When after once or twice refusing,
Oh woman’s weakness! past excusing,