And the name of my Mytah shall ever remain
The home of my thoughts, and the theme of my strain.
Ere the song had ceased the maiden's breast
Was throbbing with tumultuous passion,
And at its close she gently rose
And glided to her lover's station.
The hurried air of wild despair
That o'er her face a tremor threw,
The glossy orb that would absorb
Ere he the falling tear might view—
In eloquent language have conveyed
A tale of anguish and of dread:
And when she oped her lips to name
The grief which thus had racked her frame.
The impatient lover madly hung
Upon the accents of her tongue;—
Convulsive clenched within his hand
More firmly his unfailing brand,
As though the foe were now in sight
On whom to wreak his wrath in fight.
