"Arise, lovely mourner! thy sorrows give o'er,
Nor droop so forlornly that beautiful head!
Thy sighs art unheard by the youth they deplore,
And those warm-flowing tears all unfelt by the dead.

"Then quit this despondence, sweet Osvalde! be gay!
See open before thee the gates of delight!
Where the Hours are now lingering on tiptoe, away!
They view thee with smiles, and are loth to take flight.

"See the damsels around thee, how joyous they are!
How their eyes sparkle pleasure whenever they meet!
What sweet flowers are entwin'd in their long, floating hair!
How airy their movements, how nimble their feet!

"O! bear her from hence! when she sees them rejoice,
Still keener the pain of her agony burns;
And when Joy carols by, with a rapturous voice,
To hopeless Remembrance more poignantly turns.

"Thus often has her bosom bled;
Thus have I seen her fainting led
From feasts intended to dispel
The woeful thoughts she nurs'd so well.
And must she, by the king's command,
To Eustace plight that fever'd hand?
Proud, loyal as he is, can he,
A victim to the same decree,
Receive it, while regretting me?