University of Virginia Library

SHE.

Great ruler of the winged hour,
AZÂKIA trembles at thy pow'r;

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While from thy hand the thunders roll,
Thy charms with lightnings pierce the soul:
Ah! how unlike our sable race,
The snowy lustre of thy face!
That hair of beaming Cynthia's hue,
Those shining eyes of heav'nly blue!
Ah! didst thou leave thy blissful land,
To save me from the murd'rer's hand!
And is Ouâbi still thy care,
The dauntless chief, unknown to fear?
 

It is presumed that Azâkia had never before seen an European, or heard the report of a pistol, as she considers one a deity, and the other his thunder.