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THE CADI'S DAUGHTER, A LEGEND OF THE BOSPHORUS.
How beauteous is the star of night
Within the eastern skies,
Like the twinkling glance of the Toorkman's lance,
Or the antelope's azure eyes!
A lamp of love in the heaven above,
That star is fondly streaming;
And the gay kiosk and the shadowy mosque
In the Golden Horn are gleaming.
Young Leila sits in her jasmine bower,
And she hears the bulbul sing,'
As it thrills its throat to the first full note,
That anthems the flowery spring.
She gazes still, as a maiden will,
On that beauteous eastern star:
You might see the throb of her bosom's sob
Beneath the white cymar!
She thinks of him who is far away,—
Her own brave Galiongee,—
Where the billows foam and the breezes roam,
On the wild Carpathian sea.
She thinks of the oath that bound them both
Beside the stormy water;
And the words of love, that in Athens' grove
He spake to the Cadi's daughter.
"My Selim!" thus the maiden said,
"Though severed thus we be,
By the raging deep and the mountain steep,
My soul still yearns to thee.