The slave, more clever than the lady fair,
At first her mistress left to wild despair;
She then essayed to soothe each torment dire;
But reason 's fruitless, with a soul on fire.
No consolation would the belle receive,
For one no more, she constantly would grieve,
And sought to follow him to regions blessed:—
The sword had shortest proved, if not the best.
BUT still the lady anxious was to view,
Again those precious relicks, and pursue,