“Poor maiden!” thought the youth, “if thou wert sent.” 62
Oh! could he listen to such sounds unmov’d,
And by that light—nor dream of her he lov’d? 68
“Look up, my ZELICA—one moment show
Those gentle eyes to me, that I may know.” 71
“Oh! curse me not,” she cried, as wild he toss’d
His desperate hand tow’rds Heaven. 75
“Thy oath! thy oath!” 79