Adapted to a Spanish Melody.
My lady hath as soft a hand
As any queen in fairy-land;
And, hidden in her tiny boot,
As dainty and as light a foot.
Her foot!
Her little hand and foot!
No star that kindles in the sky
Burns brighter than my lady's eye;
And ne'er before did beauty grace
So fair a form, so sweet a face!
Her face!
Her gentle form and face!
My lady hath a golden heart,
Free from the dross of worldly art;
Which, in the sight of heaven above,
Is mine with all its hoarded love!
Her love!
Her boundless wealth of love!
Love in Exile.
Adapted to a Hungarian melody.
My heart I gave you with my hand,
In brighter days than these,
In that down-trodden father-land
Beyond the distant seas,
Where you were all the world to me,
Devoted, fond, and true,
And I, in our prosperity,
Was all the world to you!
Robbed by a tyrant's iron sway,
We're banished from that land away!
Sad wanderers from our native home!
A ruler in a foe!
An exiled caravan we roam;
But hand in hand WE go!
And thus whatever fate betide
We bless our lot in life,
Since no misfortunes may divide
The husband and the wife!
Here we defy the tyrant's will,
We're happy in each other still!
To The Evening Star.
The woods waved welcome in the breeze,
When, many years ago,
Lured by the songs of birds and bees,
I sought the dell below;
And there, in that secluded spot,
Where silver streamlets roved,
Twined the green ivy round the cot
Of her I fondly loved.