The Bridge of Sighs

One more Unfortunate,
Weary of breath,
Rashly importunate,
Gone to her death!

Take her up tenderly,
Lift her with care;
Fashioned so slenderly,
Young and so fair.

Look at her garments,
Clinging like cerements;
Whilst the wave constantly
Drags her away.

How can a moment
Seem like an hour?
Yet, for their portent,
They are in power.

Be the evil far,
Once would die to save.
Though her life is poor,
It is still brave.

• Thomas Hood