 | Areytos or songs and ballads of the South |  |
371
BALLAD.—'TWAS ON A NIGHT LIKE THIS.
'Twas on a night like this, dear maid—
The memory serves us well—
With trembling hearts our footsteps strayed,
Adown this very dell;
The skies above, as now, were clear,
The moon as brightly shone;
Thine eye was bright, thy cheek was fair,
How could I but be won?
The memory serves us well—
With trembling hearts our footsteps strayed,
Adown this very dell;
The skies above, as now, were clear,
The moon as brightly shone;
Thine eye was bright, thy cheek was fair,
How could I but be won?
And not a murmur broke the charm
That night had woven then;
And thou, though touch'd with soft alarm,
Went with me down the glen;
The brooklet lapsed along in light,
Yet sang where no one sees;
And with its melody of night,
The zephyr swept the trees.
That night had woven then;
And thou, though touch'd with soft alarm,
Went with me down the glen;
The brooklet lapsed along in light,
Yet sang where no one sees;
And with its melody of night,
The zephyr swept the trees.
Oh! I remember all, as well
As if 'twere yesterday;
The same soft light, and breezy spell,
And magical array;
Thou wast the idol of the grove,
And yon the temple's shrine,
No wonder that I grew to love,
While haply waking thine:
As if 'twere yesterday;
The same soft light, and breezy spell,
And magical array;
Thou wast the idol of the grove,
And yon the temple's shrine,
No wonder that I grew to love,
While haply waking thine:
And, all unconscious, straight poured forth
My passion's eloquence;
And felt, without a thought, the birth
Of bliss in every sense;
I know not what I look'd or spoke,
In that delirium wild,
But well remember, ere I woke,
Thy sweet eyes wept and smiled.
My passion's eloquence;
And felt, without a thought, the birth
Of bliss in every sense;
372
In that delirium wild,
But well remember, ere I woke,
Thy sweet eyes wept and smiled.
They wept and smiled with conscious power,
And conscious joy, I ween,
And sacred did we feel the hour,
That gave us such a scene;
And still we watch that maiden star,
That shines for all who love—
Still feel the spells that won us far
Adown this sacred grove!
And conscious joy, I ween,
And sacred did we feel the hour,
That gave us such a scene;
And still we watch that maiden star,
That shines for all who love—
Still feel the spells that won us far
Adown this sacred grove!
| Areytos or songs and ballads of the South | |