How cruel are the parentsWho riches only prize,And to the wealthy boobyPoor Woman sacrifice!Meanwhile, the hapless DaughterHas but a choice of strife;To shun a tyrant Father’s hate—Become a wretched Wife.
The ravening hawk pursuing,The trembling dove thus flies,To shun impelling ruin,Awhile her pinions tries;Till, of escape despairing,No shelter or retreat,She trusts the ruthless Falconer,And drops beneath his feet.