I LOVED THEE
I loved thee; and perchance until this moment
Within my breast is smouldering still the fire!
Yet I would spare thy pain the least renewal,
Nothing shall rouse again the old desire!
I loved thee with a silent desperation—
Now timid, now with jealousy brought low,
I loved devoutly,—with such deep devotion—
Ah may God grant another love thee so!
PUSHKIN.
A SERENADE
I watch Inesilla
Thy window beneath,
Deep slumbers the villa
In night's dusky sheath.
Enamoured I linger,
Close mantled, for thee—
With sword and with guitar,
O look once on me!
Art sleeping? Wilt wake thee
Guitar tones so light?
The argus-eyed greybeard
My swift sword shall smite.
The ladder of ropes
Throw me fearlessly now!
Dost falter? Hast thou, Sweet,
Been false to thy vow?
I watch Inesilla
Thy window beneath,
Deep slumbers the villa
In night's dusky sheath!