Leila, thou art resting well,
In thy lonely, narrow cell--
Dark and lonely, narrow cell,--
And I would with thee had died,
And was sleeping by thy side,--
In the graveyard by thy side,--
She who gave thee being, she
Who made life a joy to me,--
A blessing and a joy to me.
Were she with thee, I could bear
All life's agony and care,--
Bitter agony and care,--
But alas, she went astray
From the straight and narrow way,--
Virtue's straight and narrow way--
And, O misery, became
To her sex a thing of shame,--
A thing of infamy and shame.
Now, of her and thee bereft,
Naught have I to live for left,--
Naught on earth to live for left;--
And with bleeding heart I roam,
From a desecrated home,--
A broken, desecrated home,--
Looking, longing for the day
When my life shall ebb away,--
To its giver, ebb away.
For I feel, a God of love,
In the better land above,--
Brighter, better land above,--
To these yearning arms again,
With a soul all free from stain,--
Free from every earthly stain,--
Will the wanderer restore,
To be tempted nevermore--
Passion-tempted nevermore.