The traveler

O hinder me by no delay,

My horse is weary of the way;

His breast must stem the tide

Whose waves are foaming far and wide.

Miles off I heard their thundering roar,

As fast as they burst upon the shore;

A stronger steed than mine might dread

To brave them in their boiling bed.

So spoke the traveler, but in vain;

The stranger would not turn away;

Still she clung to his bridle rein,

And still entreated him to stay.