The affrighted damsel turns her palfrey round,

  And shakes the floating bridle in the wind;

  Nor in her panic seeks to choose her ground,

  Nor open grove prefers to thicket blind.

  But reckless, pale and trembling, and astound,

  Leaves to her horse the devious way to find.

  He up and down the forest bore the dame,

  Till to a sylvan river's bank he came.