 | Ouâbi : or the virtues of nature |  |
HE.
Cease to call Ouâbi's name,Give Celario all his claim.
No divinity is here:
Spare thy praises, quit thy fear:
Bend no more that beauteous knee,
For I am a slave to thee:
Let my griefs thy pity move,
Heal them with the balm of love.
Far beyond the orient main,
By my rage a youth was slain;
He this daring arm defied,
By this arm the ruffian died:
Exil'd from my native home,
Thro the desert wild I roam;
But if only blest by thee,
All the desert smiles on me.
| Ouâbi : or the virtues of nature | |