 | Songs and ballads by Samuel Lover |  |
177
THE ENCHANTRESS.
Oh! why did I meet with thee, charmer,
Why dare the soft spell of thine eye?
Oh! Love, why for conquest thus arm her,
And forbid that the vanquish'd should fly?
She hath charm'd, till my heart I did give her,
In return she hath left me her chains:
The Enchantress is gone—ah!—for ever—
But her magic—her magic remains!
Why dare the soft spell of thine eye?
Oh! Love, why for conquest thus arm her,
And forbid that the vanquish'd should fly?
She hath charm'd, till my heart I did give her,
In return she hath left me her chains:
The Enchantress is gone—ah!—for ever—
But her magic—her magic remains!
And where lay the might of her charming?
'Twas not seeking to charm you, at all;
Her frankness all caution disarming,
Till you felt the deep pow'r of her thrall.
Her eyes when they wounded, look'd kindly,
'Twas the mirth of her lip made my pain:—
She is gone whom I worship'd so blindly,
But, Enchantress, thy spells all remain!
'Twas not seeking to charm you, at all;
Her frankness all caution disarming,
Till you felt the deep pow'r of her thrall.
Her eyes when they wounded, look'd kindly,
'Twas the mirth of her lip made my pain:—
She is gone whom I worship'd so blindly,
But, Enchantress, thy spells all remain!
| Songs and ballads by Samuel Lover | |