From dreamland brings a form to trickMy senses? Which was best? to goOver the long, long waves, or pickThe flowers in blow?O, were that monster made my prize,How would I strive to wound that brow,How tear those horns, my frantic eyesAdored but now!Shameless I left my father's home;Shameless I cheat the expectant grave;O heaven, that naked I might roamIn lions' cave!Now, ere decay my bloom devourOr thin the richness of my blood,Fain would I fall in youth's first flower,The tigers' food.Hark! 'tis my father—‘Worthless one!What, yet alive? the oak is nigh.'Twas well you kept your maiden zone,The noose to tie.