They shall heed thee as mistress with trembling and awe,
And each wish of thy heart shall be felt as a law.”
O, could ye have seen her—that pride of our girls—
Arise and cast back the dark wealth of her curls,
With scorn in her eye which the gazer could feel,
And a glance like the sunshine that flashes on steel:
“Go back, haughty Southron! thy treasures of gold
Are dim with the blood of the hearts thou hast sold!
Thy home may be lovely, but round it I hear
The crack of the whip and the footsteps of fear!