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But to see her was to love her,
By day or night, in weal or woe,
That heart, no longer free, Must bear the love it cannot show,
And silent, ache for thee.
MAID OF ATHENS, ERE WE PART.
Ζώη μου σας αγαπώ.*
Fare thee weel, thou first and fairest!
MAID of Athens, ere we part, Give, O, give me back my heart ! Or, since that has left my breast, Keep it now, and take the rest! Hear my vow before I go,
Ζώη μου σάς αγαπώ. .
In holy night we made the vow ;
And the same lamp which long before Had seen our early passion grow
Was witness to the faith we swore.
By those tresses unconfined,
Did I not swear to love her ever ;
And have I ever dared to rove? Did she not own a rival never
Should shake her faith, or steal her love?
By that lip I long to taste;
Ζώη μου σας αγαπώ.
Yet now she says those words were air,
Those vows were written all in water, And by the lamp that saw her swear
Has yielded to the first that sought her.
Froin the Greek of MELEAGER,
by JOHN HERMAN MERIVALE.
Maid of Athens ! I am gone.
Ζώη μου σάς αγαπώ. .
THE KISS, DEAR MAID.
THE HEATH THIS NIGHT MUST BE MY BED.
THE kiss, dear maid! thy lip has left
Shall never part from mine,
Untainted back to thine.
SONG OF THE YOUNG HIGHLANDER, SUMMONED FROM THE
SIDE OF HIS BRIDE BY THE “FIERY CROSS" OF KOD). ERICK DHU.
Thy parting glance, which fondly beams,
An equal love may see : The tear that from thine eyelid streams
Can weep no change in me.
THE heath this night must be my bed,
Far, far from love and thee, Mary ;
It will not waken me, Mary!
I ask no pledge to make me blest
In gazing when alone ;
Whose thoughts are all thine own.
Nor need I write to tell the tale
My pen were doubly weak: 0, what can idle words avail,
Unless the heart could speak ?
I may not, dare not, fancy now
And all it promised me, Mary.
* Zoë inou, sas agapo, -- My life, I love thee.
HERO TO LEANDER.
“The morning star
Climbs the horizon's bar.
She says, “Then quick depart:
Alas ! you now must start;
“But give the cock a blow
Who did begin our woe!”
From the Chinese, by WILLIAM R. ALGER.
THE PARTING OF ROMEO AND JULIET.
JULIET. Wilt thou be gone ? it is not yet near
It was the nightingale, and not the lark,
That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear ; Thy heart beats through thy rosy limbs,
Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree :
Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.
ROMEO. It was the lark, the herald of the
morn, Thy locks are dripping balm ;
No nightingale : look, love, what envious streaks Thou shalt not wander hence to-night,
Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east: I 'll stay thee with my kisses.
Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day To-night the roaring brine
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain-tops.
I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
JULIET. Yon light is not daylight, I know
it, I :
To be to thee this night a torch-bearer,
And light thee on thy way to Mantua :
Therefore stay yet, -- thou need'st not to be gone.
ROMEO. Let me be ta’en, let me be put to
I am content, so thou wilt have it so.
I'll say, yon gray is not the morning's eye, Thy voice is sweet and low;
’T is but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow; The deep salt wave breaks in above
Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat Those marble steps below.
The vaulty heaven so high above our heads :
I have more care to stay than will to go ;
Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so.—
How is ’t, my soul ? let's talk, it is not day. The pleasant stars have set :
JULIET. It is, it is; hie hence, be gone, away! 0, go not, go not yet,
It is the lark that sings so out of tune,
Straining harsh discords, and unpleasing sharps.
Some say, the lark and loathèd toad change
eyes : 6. The cock crows,
0, now I would they had changed voices too ! He says, “No! still 't is dark."
Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray,
Hunting thee hence, with hunts-up to the day. She says, “The dawn grows bright,”
0, now be gone ; more light and light it grows. He says, “O no, my Light.”
ROMEO. More light and light,
and dark our woes. She says, “Stand up and say,
JULIET. Then, window, let day in, and let Gets not the heaven gray ?”