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Safie

An eastern tale. By J. H. Reynolds
 
 

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'Tis told the maiden felt at last
A dreadful horror of the past,—
And shunn'd the light, and scorn'd repast;—
That pity she ne'er listen'd to,—
Nor comfort craved, nor wish'd below.
Thus drooping, Safie sought the grave,—
Nor art could e'er arrest or save;—
But at the last, one hectic blush
Was seen upon her cheek to rush;—
That came to promise, yet betray,
And only flutter'd, like the ray
That dances in the evening sky,
That lights awhile, but lights to die.

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She journey'd lonely to her rest,—
Her heart was breaking in her breast;—
Yet hope, at last, appeared to throw
A cheering beam upon her woe,
Like ray of sun on winter's snow;—
And when her latest sigh was given,
It lit the maiden into heaven.
Thus true at last to Assad's love,
She long'd to meet his soul above:—
Thus Safie bless'd his memory
With many a fond departing sigh;
And loving with her latest breath,
She proved her faithfulness—in death!