CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH.

'Twas the hour when rites unholy

Call'd each Paynim voice to prayer,

And the star that faded slowly,

Left to dews the freshened air.

Day his sultry fires had wasted,

Calm and cool the moonbeams shone;

To the Vizier's lofty palace

One bold Christian came alone.

The Surgeon's Daughter · 第 23 / 28 题