Oh! couldst thou yet again to life return, How hard would this appear, O Agricane!
In that she whilom thee was wont to spurn, With sharp repulse and insolent disdain.
O Ferrau, O ye thousand more, forlorn, Unsung, who wrought a thousand feats in vain For this ungrateful fair, what pain 'twould be Could you within his arms the damsel see!