Of fair Lucinda sunk him to the tomb.
But soon did righteous Heav’n her crime pursue,
Where’er with wilder’d steps she wander’d pale;
Still Edmund’s image rose to blast her view---
Still Edmund’s voice accus’d her in each gale.
With keen remorse, and tortur’d guilt’s alarm,
Amid the pomp of affluence she pin’d;
Nor all that lur’d her faith from Edmund’s arms,
Could sooth the conscious horrors of her mind.
Go, Traveller! tell the tale with sorrow fraught,