My sorrows, gentle Knight!
I dare not whisper to the speechless air
— Still less intrust them to a stranger's ear:
Yet, from your courtesy, I must demand
My  again; and, as you hope
For blessing from the Pow'r who hears my voice,
Swear never to divulge, that in these glades
A Maid you found — by outward beauty grac'd,
But whose sad heart, Sorrow hath call'd her own,
And stern Affliction long enroll'd a sister!