While her fair form and youthful features caught
All the proud grandeur of heroic thought,
Severely beauteous:14[1] awe-struck and amazed,
In silent trance awhile the warrior gazed
As on some lofty vision—for she seem'd
One all inspired—each look with glory beam'd,
While brightly bursting through its cloud of woes,
Her soul at once in all its light arose.
Oh! ne'er had Hamet deem'd there dwelt enshrined,
In form so fragile, that unconquer'd mind,
And fix'd, as by some high enchantment, there
He stood—till wonder yielded to despair.
"The dream is vanish'd—daughter of my foes!
Reft of each hope the lonely wanderer goes.
Thy words have pierced his soul—yet deem thou not
Thou couldst be once adored, and e'er forgot!
O form'd for happier love; heroic maid!
In grief sublime, in danger undismay'd,
Farewell, and be thou blest!—all words were vain
From him who ne'er may view that form again;
Him, whose sole thought, resembling bliss, must be,
He hath been loved, once fondly loved, by thee!"
