Outspake the rash monarch,—“Now, maiden, impart,
Ere thou leave us, the loftiest hope of thy heart!
By the God of my fathers! what e’er it may be,—
To the half of my kingdom,—’tis granted to thee!”
The girl, half-bewildered, uplifted her eyes,
Dilated with timid delight and surprise,
And a swift, glowing smile o’er her happy face stole,
As if some sunny wish had just woke in her soul.
Will she tell it? Ah, no! She has caught the wild gleam
Of a soldier’s dark eye, and she starts from her dream;