 | Virginalia ; or, songs of my summer nights |  |
ISABEL.
“In the shades of bright Hoboken,
By the Sybil's lonely well,
There I gave you this fond token,
Of the vows that then were spoken—
Vows that never have been broken
But by thee, dear Isabel!
By the Sybil's lonely well,
There I gave you this fond token,
Of the vows that then were spoken—
Vows that never have been broken
But by thee, dear Isabel!
“Then you said to me, when sighing,
You would always love me well;
Then my soul, on thine relying,
Said the same dear thing, replying—
Now my soul to God is crying
For redress, dear Isabel!
You would always love me well;
Then my soul, on thine relying,
Said the same dear thing, replying—
Now my soul to God is crying
For redress, dear Isabel!
“In the shades of bright Hoboken,
As the Angels know full well,
There our plighted vows were spoken—
There this wretched heart was broken!
Give me back the golden token
Of my love, false Isabel!
As the Angels know full well,
There our plighted vows were spoken—
There this wretched heart was broken!
Give me back the golden token
Of my love, false Isabel!
67
“For you sailed the Hudson over
To the Sybil's Holy well,
Where, by stealth, I did discover,
In the fields of dewy clover,
That you had another lover
Whom you loved, dear Isabel!
To the Sybil's Holy well,
Where, by stealth, I did discover,
In the fields of dewy clover,
That you had another lover
Whom you loved, dear Isabel!
“I have now the golden token
Of the heart that loved too well!
By the lies that thou hast spoken—
By this trusting heart, now broken,
In the shades of bright Hoboken
Thou shalt die, dear Isabel!”
Of the heart that loved too well!
By the lies that thou hast spoken—
By this trusting heart, now broken,
In the shades of bright Hoboken
Thou shalt die, dear Isabel!”
Then, beside the Hudson's water,
By the Sybil's lonely well,
In his arms he quickly caught her,
Like Virginius did his daughter—
Virgin lamb for early slaughter—
And there slew his Isabel!
By the Sybil's lonely well,
In his arms he quickly caught her,
Like Virginius did his daughter—
Virgin lamb for early slaughter—
And there slew his Isabel!
“Now my soul is overladen
With such grief as none can tell!
Smile upon me, heavenly maiden,
From the jasper groves of Aiden!
In the grave that thou art laid in
I will lie, lost Isabel!”
With such grief as none can tell!
Smile upon me, heavenly maiden,
From the jasper groves of Aiden!
In the grave that thou art laid in
I will lie, lost Isabel!”
Then her lover, broken-hearted,
As on earth she fiercely fell,
Through his heart his dagger darted,
When his soul to God departed!
Who, to die, that morning started
From New York with Isabel!
As on earth she fiercely fell,
Through his heart his dagger darted,
When his soul to God departed!
Who, to die, that morning started
From New York with Isabel!
| Virginalia ; or, songs of my summer nights | |