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And if thou love thyself, or loved'st me, These O protect from stepdame's injury.

"Nature, poor stepdame, cannot slake my drouth," said another poet, "never did any milk of hers once bless my thirsting mouth."

Thou must toil up Those mountain-tops that neighbour with the stars, And tread the south way, and draw near, at last, The Amazonian host that hateth man, Inhabitants of Themiscyra, close Upon Thermodon, where the sea's rough jaw Doth gnash at Salmydessa and provide A cruel host to seamen, and to ships A stepdame.

She, guiltless damsel, flying the mad pursuit Of her enraged stepdame Guendolin, Commended her fair innocence to the flood, That stay’d her flight with his cross-flowing course.

Death is the gift most welcome to my woe, And such a gift a stepdame may bestow.