BLUE AND BLACK EYES.
I wish the happy time were nigh,
When youths are sold, that I might buy.
But for an azure-eyed Milinar, [219]
I would not give a single dinar,
Though for a raven-black eyed youth,
A thousand golden coins, in truth.
Alas! alas!—and is it true?
My own fair youth has eyes of blue;
Yes! they are blue—yet dear to me—
Will he forgive my levity?
Ye maidens! pray him to forgive me;
Nay! spare me now—and rather leave me
To tell him “I am yours”—and smile
In fond affection all the while.
THE WIDOW.
Rose! O smile upon the youth no longer;
He, in his impatience to be wedded,
Chose a widow for his years unsuited,
And where’er she goes, where’er she tarries,
She is mourning for her ancient husband.
“O my husband! first and best possession!
Happy were the days we spent together!
Early we retired and late we waken’d.
Thou didst wake me kissing my white forehead,
‘Up, my heart! the sun is high in heaven,
And our aged mother is arisen.’”
ALARMS.
Fairest youths are here—but not the fairest!
Could I hear him now, or could I see him,—
Could I know if he be sick, or faithless!
Were he sick, my ears would rather hear it,
Than that he had loved another maiden.
Sickness may depart, and time restore him,—
If enamour’d,—never! never! never!
FOND WIFE.
O! if I were a mountain streamlet,
I know where I would flow;
I’d spring into the crystal Sava,
Where the gay vessels go,
That I might look upon my lover—
For fain my heart would know
If, when he holds the helm, he ever
Looks on my rose, and thinks
Of her who gave it;—if the nosegay
I made of sweetest pinks
Is faded yet, and if he wear it.
On Saturday I cull
To give him for a Sabbath present
All that is beautiful.