 | Songs and ballads by Samuel Lover |  |
THE MAID OF MALABAR.
Slowly thro' the cypress gloom
Weeping came an Indian maid,
Strewing flowers o'er a tomb,
There a captive bird she laid;
There soon the cage to ope',
There to let the captive fly,
Like the spirit, wing'd with hope,
Soaring to its native sky.
Weeping came an Indian maid,
Strewing flowers o'er a tomb,
There a captive bird she laid;
There soon the cage to ope',
There to let the captive fly,
Like the spirit, wing'd with hope,
Soaring to its native sky.
The lonely cypress shade along,
How strangely mingled on the gale,
The sweetness of the blithe bird's song—
The sadness of the maiden's wail;
Oh! where, where art thou?
Thou art gone, my joy and pride:—
Tho' I know thou'rt happy now,
I wish thee at thy true love's side.
How strangely mingled on the gale,
The sweetness of the blithe bird's song—
The sadness of the maiden's wail;
Oh! where, where art thou?
Thou art gone, my joy and pride:—
Tho' I know thou'rt happy now,
I wish thee at thy true love's side.
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The open cage upon the grave
The maiden watch'd with tearful eye,
To see the bird his bright wing wave,
Like happy spirit to the sky;
It flew—it hover'd o'er the tomb—
Then flutter'd to the mourner's breast;
“Sweet bird,” she cried, “be this thy home—
For, oh, it is a vacant nest!”
The maiden watch'd with tearful eye,
To see the bird his bright wing wave,
Like happy spirit to the sky;
It flew—it hover'd o'er the tomb—
Then flutter'd to the mourner's breast;
“Sweet bird,” she cried, “be this thy home—
For, oh, it is a vacant nest!”
| Songs and ballads by Samuel Lover | |