International Weekly Miscellany - Volume 1, No. 6, August 5, 1850 by Various
page 13 of 116 (11%)
page 13 of 116 (11%)
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be ashamed:--
A maiden sat beneath a tree; Tear-bedewed her pale cheeks be, And she sighed heavily. From forth the wood into the _light_ A hunter strides with carol _light_ And a glance so bold and bright. He careless stopped and eyed the maid; 'Why weepest thou?' he gently said; 'I love thee well, be not afraid.' He takes her hand and leads her on-- She should have waited there alone, For he was not her chosen one. He _leans_ her head upon his breast-- She knew 'twas not her home of rest, But, ah! she had been sore distrest. The sacred stars looked sadly down; The parting moon appeared to frown, To see thus dimmed the diamond crown. Then from the thicket starts a deer-- The huntsman seizing _on_ his spear Cries, 'Maiden, wait thou for me here.' |
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