THE TURKISH LADY. 'Twas the hour when rites unholy Call'd each Paynim voice to pray'r, And the star that faded slowly Left to dews the freshien'd air. Day her sultry fires had wasted, Calm and sweet the moonlight rose; Ev'n a captive's spirit tasted Half oblivion of his woes. Then 'twas from an Emir's palace She, in spite of tyrants jealous, Saw and lov'd an English knight. Tell me, captive, why in anguish 'Foes have dragg'd thee here to dwell, Where poor Christians as they languish Hear no sound of sabbath bell?' Say, fair princess! would it grieve thee 'Christian climes should we behold?' 'Nay; bold knight! I would not leave thee • Were thy ransom paid in gold!' Now in Heaven's blue expansion Rose the midnight star to view, When to quit her father's mansion, Thrice she wept, and bade adieu! Fly we then, while none discover! Tyrant barks, in vain ye ride!' Soon at Rhodes the British lover Clasp'd his blooming Eastern bride. VOL. II. D |