170
CONSTANCY.
With a comb of gold each night
I combed my tresses bright;
But the sportive zephyr tossed them to and fro;
So I pressed them in a heap,
For my love whereon to sleep:
Ah! does he now remember it or no?
I combed my tresses bright;
But the sportive zephyr tossed them to and fro;
So I pressed them in a heap,
For my love whereon to sleep:
Ah! does he now remember it or no?
He said he loved to gaze
On my tresses' flowing maze,
And the midnight of my dark Moorish eyes;
And he vowed 'twould give him pain
Should his love be all in vain;
So he won me with his praises and his sighs.
On my tresses' flowing maze,
And the midnight of my dark Moorish eyes;
And he vowed 'twould give him pain
Should his love be all in vain;
So he won me with his praises and his sighs.
Then I flung my raven hair
As a mantle o'er him there,
Encirling him within its mazy flow;
And pillowed on my breast,
He lay in sweet unrest:
Ah! does he now remember it or no?
As a mantle o'er him there,
Encirling him within its mazy flow;
And pillowed on my breast,
He lay in sweet unrest:
Ah! does he now remember it or no?
CONSTANCY.
FROM THE RUSSIAN.
I.
RAVEN on a branch is sitting;
By him comes another flitting—
Brother, where so quickly flying?
Hast thou scented dead or dying?
RAVEN on a branch is sitting;By him comes another flitting—
Brother, where so quickly flying?
Hast thou scented dead or dying?
II.
Food and plenty sent to cheer us,
Croaks the other, we have near us.
Yonder there, amid the gorse,
Lies the murdered Baron's corse.
Food and plenty sent to cheer us,
Croaks the other, we have near us.
Yonder there, amid the gorse,
Lies the murdered Baron's corse.
