Had died! O traitor cords that held too sure
My body to the broken spar of life!
O feeble seas, that fumed in such wild wrath,
Yet could not quench so frail a thing as I!"
With passionate step, across the isle she ran,
And leapt from crag to crag, until she stood
Upon a dizzy scar that jutted sheer
Above low-lapping waves. Then once again
Her moaning cry was heard among the Isles:
"O bitter waters, give them back to me!