⁠The being that I look unto,
⁠Tempested in rock and chain?
⁠For what crime dost thou sustain
⁠Such chastisement? and, oh, declare
⁠Where have I hapless wander'd—where?
⁠Ah me! ah me! ah me!
Again the gad-fly spurs me, wretched maid!
Oh earth, avert the earth-born Argus' shade!
⁠I fear mine eyes should be
⁠On him, the thousand-eyed
Herdsman, who walketh, looking craftily;
Whom, albeit dead, the grave hath fail'd to hide;
But, passing from the shades, who doggeth me,
Making me wander famine-worn beside
⁠The sand-encircled sea: