LEWTI, OR THE CIRCASSIAN

LOVE-CHAUNT.

At midnight by the stream I roved,
To forget the form I loved.
Image of Lewti! from my mind
Depart; for Lewti is not kind.

The Moon was high, the moonlight gleam

And the shadow of a star Heaved

upon

Tamaha's stream; But the rock shone brighter far, The rock half sheltered from

my

view
By pendent boughs of tressy yew-
So shines my Lewti's forehead fair,
Gleaming through her sable hair.
Image of Lewti! from my mind
Depart; for Lewti is not kind.

I saw a cloud of palest hue,

Onward to the Moon it passed ;
Still brighter and more bright it grew,
With floating colours not a few,

Till it reached the Moon at last :
Then the cloud was wholly bright,
With a rich and amber light!
And so with many a hope I seek

And with such joy I find my Lewti ;
And even so my pale wan cheek

Drinks in as deep a flush of beauty ! Nay, treacherous image! leave my mind, If Lewti never will be kind.

The little cloud-it floats away,

Away it goes; away so soon?
Alas! it has no power to stay:
Its hues are dim, its hues are grey-

Away it passes from the Moon!
How mournfully it seems to fly,

Ever fading more and more, To joyless regions of the sky,

And now 'tis whiter than before ! As white as my poor cheek will be,

When Lewti! on my couch I lie, A dying man for love of thee.

Nay, treacherous image! leave my mindAnd yet, thou did'st not look unkind.

I saw a vapour in the sky,

Thin, and white, and very high ; I ne'er beheld so thin a cloud :

Perhaps the breezes that can fly

Now below and now above,
Have snatched aloft the lawny shroud

Of Lady fair--that died for love.
For maids, as well as youths, have perished
From fruitless love too fondly cherished,
Nay, treacherous image! leave my mind-
For Lewti never will be kind.

Hush! my heedless feet from under

Slip the crumbling banks for ever : Like echoes to a distant thunder,

They plunge into the gentle river. The river-swans have heard my tread, And startle from their reedy bed. O beauteous Birds! methinks ye measure

Your movements to some heavenly tune! O beauteous Birds ! 'tis such a pleasure

To see you move beneath the Moon,

3

I would it were your true delight
To sleep by day and wake all night.

:

I know the place where Lewti lies,
When silent night has closed her eyes

It is a breezy jasmine-bower,
The Nightingale sings o'er her head :

Voice of the Night! had I the power
That leafy labyrinth to thread,
And creep, like thee, with soundless tread,
I then might view her bosom white
Heaving lovely to my sight,
As these two swans together heave
On the gently swelling wave.

Oh! that she saw me in a dream

And dreamt that I had died for care; All pale and wasted I would seem,

Yet fair withal, as spirits are ! I'd die indeed, if I might see Her bosom heave, and heave for me! Soothe, gentle image! soothe my mind! To-morrow Lewti may be kind.

1795.

THE PICTURE, OR THE LOVER'S

RESOLUTION.

THROUG II weeds and thorns, and matted underwood
I force my way; now climb, and now descend
O'er rocks, or bare or mossy, with wild foot
Crushing the purple whorts; while oft unseen,
Hurrying along the drifted forest-leaves,
The scared snake rustles. Onward still I toil
I know not, ask not whither! A new joy,
Lovely as light, sudden as summer gust,
And gladsome as the first-born of the spring,
Beckons me on, or follows from behind,
Playmate, or guide! The master-passion quelled,
I feel that I am free. With dun-red bark
The fir-trees, and the unfrequent slender oak,
Forth from this tangle wild of bush and brake