O hinder me by no delay,
My horse is weary of the way;
And still his breast must stem the tide
Whose waves are foaming far and wide.
Leagues off I heard their thundering roar,
As fast they burst upon the shore:
A stronger steed than mine might dread
To brave them in their boiling bed.

Thus spoke the traveller, but in vain:
The stranger would not turn away;
Still clung she to his bridle rein,
And still entreated him to stay.