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Dauntlessly aside she flings
Still 'tis told by Indian fires,
Returning from the cruel fight
How pale and faint appears my knight!
He sees me anxious at his side;
Why seek, my love, your wounds to hide?
Or deem your English girl afraid
To emulate the Indian maid?"
Be mine my husband's grief to cheer,
In peril to be ever near ;
LOVE-SONGS MADE EASY.
WHAT MAKES MY HEART TO THRILL AND
THE MAYFAIR LOVE-SONG.
WINTER and summer, night and morn,
I languish at this table dark;
er looks into St. James's Park.
I am a Foreign-Office Clerk.
My toils, my pleasures, every one,
I find are stale, and dull, and slow;
My wearied brains out out to blow.
What is it makes my blood to run?
What makes my heart to beat and glow?
My notes of hand are burnt, perhaps?
Some one has paid my tailor's bill?
No: : every morn the tailor raps;
My IO U's are extant still.
I still am prey of debt and dun;
What makes my heart to glow and swell?
At half-past four I had the cab;
And dirty brown the London snow.
er down by dear old Bolton Row,
A something made my heart to pant,
And caused my cheek to flush and glow.
What could it be that made me find
What was it made me drink like mad
She's home again! she's home, she's home! Away all cares and griefs and pain; I knew she would-she's back from Rome; She's home again! she's home again! "The family's gone abroad," they said, September last-they told me so; Since then my lonely heart is dead, My blood I think's forgot to flow.
THE GHAZUL, OR ORIENTAL LOVE-SONG.
I WAS a timid little antelope;
My home was in the rocks, the lonely rocks.
I saw the hunters scouring on the plain ;
I was a-thirsty in the summer-heat;
I ventured to the tents beneath the rocks.
Zuleikah brought me water from the well;
I saw her face reflected in the well;
Her camels since have marched into the rocks.
I look to see her image in the well;