And lo! within the Lion's horrid lair,
The Dove has brought her mate, and sees him unhurt there.
Oh Love! how powerful o'er all thou art,
In dusky breasts or breasts of whiter hue,
To thy delicious touch the human heart
Throbs with respondent transport ever true.
On Love's swift wings, this Indian virgin flew,
To snatch from hateful death the lovely chief,
Love drew her tears, like showers of pearly dew,
Love filled her passionate breast with tender grief