Where wanders the beautiful Maid of my soul ?
Where lingers the fair one with tresses of jet ?
Behold o’er the vale how the grey-shadows roll,
Behind yon dark cliff the last sun-beam has set.
The star of the Evening in brightness ascends,
And sweet is the breath of the wild-warbling grove,
With the Night-bird the stream its low muttering blends,
And each passing breeze seems to whisper of love.
Ah ! where is the fire of my Selima’s glance,
The bright flame that plays round my fluttering heart !
Where, where on thy cheek are the warm smiles that dance,
The smiles and the blushes that rapture impart.
Long, long have I watch’d for the fading of day,
And oft have I gaz’d o’er the wide-spreading plain,
With sorrowing eye the still scene I survey,
For ah ! she appears not !–I linger in vain.
(Laura Sophia Temple)
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