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107
LINDA ALHAYA.
Slow rippling in the zephyr's breath,
The murmuring waters flow beneath;
Warm glows the sun—sweet breathes the air:
Why are these scenes, though bright and fair,
To me a dreary wilderness?
Linda Alhaya! canst thou guess?
The murmuring waters flow beneath;
Warm glows the sun—sweet breathes the air:
Why are these scenes, though bright and fair,
To me a dreary wilderness?
Linda Alhaya! canst thou guess?
Why do I gaze on flowerets blue
Which rival heaven's own matchless hue,
And wander by their native stream,
Though it to other eyes may seem
Unworthy of my constancy?
Linda Alhaya! tell me why?
Which rival heaven's own matchless hue,
And wander by their native stream,
Though it to other eyes may seem
Unworthy of my constancy?
Linda Alhaya! tell me why?
Why do I gaze on them and smile,
Then sit me down, and weep awhile?
Sadly, but fond, as they recalled
Something which held my heart enthralled:
Then slowly wend my weary way—
Linda Alhaya! canst thou say?
Then sit me down, and weep awhile?
108
Something which held my heart enthralled:
Then slowly wend my weary way—
Linda Alhaya! canst thou say?
Linda Alhaya hears me not—
Linda Alhaya has forgot
That e'er her starry path I crossed,
Where every end but joy was lost.
And hast thou lost all thought of me,
Linda Alhaya? can it be?
Linda Alhaya has forgot
That e'er her starry path I crossed,
Where every end but joy was lost.
And hast thou lost all thought of me,
Linda Alhaya? can it be?
Not so have I of thee, sweet maid—
Deep in my heart my love is laid;
Scentless and whithered each flower to me—
Leafless and scathed each towering tree:
Oh, Linda Alhaya, canst thou not guess?
Thou wert my rose of the wilderness!
Deep in my heart my love is laid;
Scentless and whithered each flower to me—
Leafless and scathed each towering tree:
Oh, Linda Alhaya, canst thou not guess?
Thou wert my rose of the wilderness!
Linda Alhaya! those flowerets blue
Match not thine eye's soft liquid hue,
But they the self-same language hold,
Waving above those waters cold;
And as we parted on this spot,
They said “Farewell, forget me not!”
Match not thine eye's soft liquid hue,
But they the self-same language hold,
Waving above those waters cold;
And as we parted on this spot,
They said “Farewell, forget me not!”
109
Those flowers may bud, and bloom, and die,
Above the brook that wanders by;
And while they live, their blossoms seem
Reflected in its silver stream;
But when rude Time the buds shall sever,
Their images are fled for ever.
Above the brook that wanders by;
And while they live, their blossoms seem
Reflected in its silver stream;
But when rude Time the buds shall sever,
Their images are fled for ever.
Oh! thus shall it never be with me
While I have breath and memory;
The stream of life may swell its tide—
Thy image still secure will bide!
My faithful heart in death shall tell,
Linda Alhaya, I loved thee well.
While I have breath and memory;
The stream of life may swell its tide—
Thy image still secure will bide!
My faithful heart in death shall tell,
Linda Alhaya, I loved thee well.
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