O! THERE is a sweet æra in the life of man, when (the brain being
tender and fibrillous, and more like pap than any thing else)——a story
read of two fond lovers, separated from each other by cruel parents,
and by still more cruel destiny——
_Amandus_——He
_Amanda_——She——
each ignorant of the other’s course,
He——east
She——west
_Amandus_ taken captive by the _Turks_, and carried to the emperor of
_Morocco_’s court, where the princess of _Morocco_ falling in love with
him, keeps him twenty years in prison for the love of his _Amanda._——
She—(_Amanda_) all the time wandering barefoot, and with dishevell’d
hair, o’er rocks and mountains, enquiring for _Amandus!——Amandus!
Amandus!—_making every hill and valley to echo back his name——
_Amandus! Amandus!_
at every town and city, sitting down forlorn at the gate——Has
Amandus!—has my _Amandus_ enter’d?——till,——going round, and round, and
round the world——chance unexpected bringing them at the same moment of
the night, though by different ways, to the gate of _Lyons_, their
native city, and each in well-known accents calling out aloud,