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"Yet stay, one moment stay, dear injur'd maid! My sick'ning soul is struggling to be free;Lo! the stern debt of gratitude is paid— Yon friendly cup restores me back to thee!—Matilda, hear!—from early youth we lov'd; On Glomin's banks, her shady groves among,My youthful heart love's tender passion prov'd, And fair Christina still inspir'd my song.For her I chac'd the lynx through forests brown, His glossy fur at her dear feet to lay;Unfelt the danger, and my toil's best crown To meet Christina's smile at close of day!Where Ocean roar'd below, and storms above, Eager "mid black'ning rocks I careless sprungThe wild-bird's nest to plunder for my love, But spar'd, at her request, the callow young.With her a Paradise the vale appear'd, When summer shed her short-liv'd fervours there,And winter's lengthen'd reign was more than cheer'd, With all on earth that's happy, good, or fair.Lord Norman's fost'ring friendship brought me here; Thy smile, alas! more fatal than thy frown, Rais'd me at once to honour and renown;—Thou know'st the rest—and oh! thou hadst been dear,Had this poor blighted flow'ret ne'er been known!But she was my betroth'd, and I was all her own.And think not, lady! that ambition burningIn Albert's bosom quench'd so pure a flame—Loaded with favours, hopeless of returning,I gave—oh! more than gratitude could claim-—My plighted love to agony and mourning,My spotless honour to eternal shame!
