LEWTI, OR THE CIRCASSIAN Ar midnight by the stream I roved, Image of Lewti! from my mind Depart; for Lewti is not kind. The Moon was high, the moonlight gleam Heaved upon Tamaha's stream; I saw a cloud of palest hue, Onward to the Moon it passed; Till it reached the Moon at last : And with such joy I find my Lewti; 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, Alas! it has no power to stay: 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 : 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, I would it were your true delight I know the place where Lewti lies, 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, As these two swans together heave 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. THROUGH weeds and thorns, and matted underwood The scared snake rustles. Onward still I toil |