The New Monthly Magazine, Volume 40, Page 27
III.
The Lost One.
Seek by the silvery Darro,
Where jasmine flowers have blown;
There hath she left no foot-print?—
Weep, weep, the maid is gone!
Seek where our Lady's image
Smiles o'er the pine-hung steep;
Hear ye not there her vespers?—
Weep for the parted, weep!
Seek in the porch where vine-leaves
O'ershade her father's head;
Are his grey hairs left lonely?—
Weep! her bright soul is fled!
