The poem
RAVING winds around her blowing, Yellow leaves the woodlands strowing, By a river hoarsely roaring, Isabella stray’d deploring—
“Farewell, hours that late did measure Sunshine days of joy and pleasure; Hail, thou gloomy night of sorrow, Cheerless night that knows no morrow!
“O’er the past too fondly wandering, On the hopeless future pondering; Chilly grief my life-blood freezes, Fell despair my fancy seizes.
“Life, thou soul of every blessing, Load to misery most distressing, Gladly how wouldlI resign thee, And to dark oblivion join thee!”