My beauty of the shieling,
Thy graceful air, like arrow-shaft,
A fiery flame concealing,
Has left me to the marrow chaf'd.
So winsome is thy smiling,
Thy love-craft so beguiling,
It binds me like the wilding,
And I yield, in dule and sorrow left.
Thy brown locks rank'd in order,
So spiral, rich, and clustering!
Thy face, of flowers a border,
'Neath feather'd eyebrows mustering!
Two drops of dewy splendour
Those lids of beauty under!
And that kiss--a fragrant wonder,
As fruits of India Western!