The throneless Sov'reign, when he saw his gates
Open their faithless jaws t'admit the foe,
Rush'd, in distraction, to his Daughter's chamber:
Fly! let us instant fly! he gasping said;
The  have vanquish'd, and my Child's a slave.
Their standards now insult our conquer'd streets,
And curst ZORADOR will not long delay,
Within my palace walls t'assert his rights.
Come then, my Daughter! lest dishonour find thee,
And kill they parent with a thousand deaths!
The Princess, whom affliction had subdu'd,
And taught a firmness stranger to her years,
Grasp'd her lov'd Father's hand — Lead me, she cry'd,
Where Providence ordains! my duteous steps
Shall ever follow yours, soften your path,
And chear, to life's last sigh, your rugged journey.