 | Areytos or songs and ballads of the South |  |
102
'TWAS A MAID OF CONGAREE.
'Twas a maid of Congaree,
But no Indian maid was she;
Large blue eyes and fair white face,
Spoke her of the Saxon race.
Stately in her step and mien,
She might well have been a queen;
And a queen o'er hearts was she,
By the rolling Congaree!
But no Indian maid was she;
Large blue eyes and fair white face,
Spoke her of the Saxon race.
Stately in her step and mien,
She might well have been a queen;
And a queen o'er hearts was she,
By the rolling Congaree!
Subjects many had she there,
All to love and some to fear;
Few to hope. Alas! the day,
When I sank beneath her sway!
Still compelling hearts to feel,
Yet her own as stern as steel;
Tyrant hath she been to me,
That fair maid of Congaree.
All to love and some to fear;
Few to hope. Alas! the day,
When I sank beneath her sway!
Still compelling hearts to feel,
Yet her own as stern as steel;
Tyrant hath she been to me,
That fair maid of Congaree.
Yet, though chief of all my foes,
Would I not that queen depose;
Be her sovran sway complete,
Still with thousands at her feet;
Every hour as bright as this—
Blest, though still denying bliss;
Queen forever, fair and free,
Over hearts, by Congaree!
Would I not that queen depose;
Be her sovran sway complete,
Still with thousands at her feet;
Every hour as bright as this—
Blest, though still denying bliss;
Queen forever, fair and free,
Over hearts, by Congaree!
| Areytos or songs and ballads of the South | |