Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 40 1834/The Zagri Maid
The New Monthly Magazine, Volume 40, Page 27
II.
The Zagri Maid.
The summer leaves were sighing
Around the Zagri Maid,
To her low, sad song replying,
As it fill'd the olive shade.
"Alas! for her that loveth
Her land's, her kindred's foe!
Where a Christian Spaniard roveth,
Should a Zagri's spirit go?
"From thy glance, my gentle mother!
I sink with shame oppress'd,
And the dark eye of my brother
Is an arrow to my breast."
When summer leaves were sighing,
Thus sang the Zagri maid,
While the crimson day was dying
In the whisp'ring olive shade.
"And for all this heart's wealth wasted,
This woe, in secret borne,
This flower of young life blasted,
Should I win back aught but scorn?
By aught but daily dying
Would my love-truth be repaid?"
When summer leaves were sighing,
Thus sang the Zagri maid.