"One who, long since shone as a prince,

And kiss'd her damask cheek:

But oh, my trusty sword has fail'd,

The cruel Paynim has prevail'd,

My lands are lost, my friends are few,

Trifles all, if my lady's true!"

"Poor prince! ah when did woman's truth,

Outlive the loss of lands and youth!"


THE SKETCH-BOOK.