PLEDGES.
The wind was with the roses playing:
To Ranko’s tent it blew their leaves:
Militza, Ranko, there were staying;
And Ranko writes—Militza weaves.
His letter done, he drops his pen:
Her finish’d web she throws aside:
And lo! I heard the lover then
Low whisper to his promised bride:
“Militza! tell me truly now
And dost thou love me—love me best?
Or heavy is thy nuptial vow?”—
And thus the maid the youth address’d:
“O trust me—thou my heart—my soul!
That thou art dearer far to me—
Far dearer, Ranko! than the whole
Of brothers—many though they be:
And that the vows we pledged together
Are lighter than the lightest feather.”
COMPLAINT.
O flower! so lovely in thy bloom,
Be evil fate thy mother’s doom!
Thy mother, who so kindly nurst,
And sent thee to our village first.
Where heroes o’er their cups romancing,
And our young striplings stones are flinging,
And our delighted brides are dancing,
And our gay maidens songs are singing—
’Twas then I saw thee, lovely flower!
And lost my quiet from that hour.
SONG.
The winter is gone,
Beloved, arise!
The spring is come on,
The birds are all singing:
Beloved, arise!
The roses are springing;
Earth laughs out in love:
Beloved, arise!
And thou, my sweet dove!
O waste not thy time:
Beloved, arise!
Enjoy the sweet bliss
Of a kiss—of a kiss:
Beloved, arise!
In the hour of thy prime,
Beloved, arise!
MAHOMMEDAN SONG.
I have piercing eyes—the eyes of falcons:
I am of undoubted noble lineage:
I can read the heart of Osman Aga:
I was ask’d by Osman Aga’s mother:
“Cursed witch: and yet most lovely maiden!
Why with white and red dost paint thy visage?
Fascinate no longer Osman Aga!
I will speed me to the verdant forest,
Build me up of maple-trees a dwelling,
And lock up within it Osman Aga.”