And to the maid, whose troubled face apears Bathed with a briny flood, "Why wait we? -- need Is here of speedy succour, not of tears.
Do you but where the youth is prisoned lead;
Him from a thousand swords, a thousand spears, We vow to save; so it be done with speed.
But haste you, lest too tardy be our aid, And he be burnt, which succour is delayed."