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Ouâbi : or the virtues of nature

an Indian tale in four cantos

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What time red Sirius sheds his baneful pow'r,
And fades the verdant beauties of the grove;
When thirsty plants droop for the cooling show'r,
And not a leaf the sleeping zephyrs move,
Azâkia wander'd from her sultry home,
Amid the stream her languid limbs to lave,
Now on the sedgy banks delights to roam,
Now her light body curls the shining wave.
While thro the woods the sachem chas'd the deer,
Celario mourns Azâkia's long delay,
Oft at her absence drops th' empassion'd tear,
Counting the tedious moments' leaden way.
When half the scorching day its course had run,
The wand'rer seeks her lov'd abode again,
Nor thinks how sad existence lingers on,
Unsooth'd by love, and worn by anxious pain.
Celario greets her with a lover's care,
And sees new beauties grace her modest form,
Repeats his fond complaint, his late despair,
And dwells enraptur'd on each glowing charm:

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Till, quite regardless of Ouâbi's name,
His yielding soul to desp'rate love resign'd,
Urg'd with insidious voice his daring flame,
By ev'ry art assail'd her soften'd mind.