In deep though silent agony of heart:
One whose dark fate must be to mourn alone,
Unseen her sorrows and their cause unknown,
And veil her heart, and teach her cheek to wear
That smile in which the spirit hath no share—
Like the bright beams that shed their fruitless glow
O’er the cold solitude of Alpine snow.
Soft, fresh, and silent is the midnight hour,
And the young Zayda seeks her lonely bower;
That Zegri maid, within whose gentle mind