(Sidero, the stepmother of Tyro, daughter of Salmoneus, cruelly
entreated her in all things, and chiefly in this, that she let
sheer her beautiful hair.)

At fierce Sidero's word the thralls drew near,
And shore the locks of Tyro,-like ripe corn
They fell in golden harvest,-but forlorn
The maiden shuddered in her pain and fear,
Like some wild mare that cruel grooms in scorn
Hunt in the meadows, and her mane they sheer,
And drive her where, within the waters clear,
She spies her shadow, and her shame doth mourn.

Ah! hard were he and pitiless of heart
Who marking that wild thing made weak and tame,
Broken, and grieving for her glory gone,
Could mock her grief; but scornfully apart
Sidero stood, and watched a wind that came
And tossed the curls like fire that flew and shone!