Ardent she spoke, while hope a ray diffus'd,
But, still resolv'd, the restless sire refus'd;
Long on life's troubled ocean he had tost,
And now his relish of the calm was lost:
IANTHE's eyes stream'd o'er the lov'd retreat,
Of all the world this spot alone seem'd sweet;
Her heaving breast unusual anguish wrung,
And never so persuasive was her tongue.