Listened to love on the moonlit heather;
Had gentleness, vanity, maiden shame:
Now her allies are the tempest howling;
Prodigal's curses; self-disdain;
Poverty, misery: Well, no matter;
There is an end unto every pain.
"The harlot's fame was her doom to-day,
Disdain, despair; by to-morrow's light
The ragged boards and the pauper's pall;
And so she'll be given to dusky night!