—She said, no shepherd sought her side,
No hunter’s hand her snood untied,
Yet ne’er again, to braid her hair,
The virgin snood did Alice wear;
Gone was her maiden glee and sport,
Her maiden girdle all too short;
Nor sought she, from that fatal night,
Or holy church, or blessed rite,
But lock’d her secret in her breast,
And died in travail, unconfess’d.