And whirls the drifted snow;
In vain the torrents scorn the shore,
To Delia I must go.
“In vain the shades of evening fall,
And horrid dangers threat;
What can the lover’s heart appal,
Or check his eager feet?
“The darksome vale the fearless tries,
And winds its trackless wood,
High o’er the cliff’s dread summit flies,