Where young and lovely women, crowned with flowers,
Conversed of me in accents light and gay.
But, in their happy talk not joining, one
Sat far apart, and plunged in thought she seemed;
And oh!—the mystery knows God alone—
This was the dream her young soul sadly dreamed.
She saw in vision Dagestána’s Vale,
Where on the slope a well-known body lay;
From the black wound smoke rose upon the gale,
And in cold streams the life-blood ebbed away.