LEWTI, Or the CIRCASSIAN LOVE-CHANT. At midnight by the stream I rov'd The moon was high, the moonlight gleam, Heav'd upon Tamaha's stream; I saw a cloud of palest hue, Then the cloud was wholly bright, And so with many a hope I seek, Drinks in as deep a flush of beauty ! Nay, treach'rous image! leave my mind, If Lewti never will be kind. The little cloud-it floats away, Nay, treach'rous image! leave my mind- I saw a vapour in the sky, Perhaps the breezes that can fly For Maids, as well as Youths, have perish'd Hush! my heedless feet from under They plunge into the gentle river. I know the place where Lewti lies, When silent night has clos'd her eyes— It is a breezy jasmin bower, The nightingale sings o'er her head; Had I the enviable power To creep unseen with noiseless tread, Then should I view her bosom white Heaving lovely to the sight, As these two swans together heave O that she saw me in a dream, And dreamt that I had died for care! All pale and wasted I would seem, I'd die indeed, if I might see Her bosom heave, and heave for me! Soothe, gentle image! soothe my mind! To-morrow Lewti may be kind. The CHILD of SORROW's TALE. Deny, but do not taunt a maid aid Who never scorn with scorn repays; Proud man, though now I ask your Mine once, alas! were happier days. But Sorrow mark'd me for her own Before I told my twentieth yearYet when my friends began to frown, I but reproach'd them with A Tear. I ne'er could frame the harsh reply, The look unkind by feeling fear'd, E'en when I met disdain's cold eye, E'en when I cruel language heard. I've seen my friend, my earliest friend, Refuse my tale of woe to hear; Yet still unwilling to offend, All my remembrance was-A TEAR. |