Yet I would spare thy pain the least renewal,
Nothing shall rouse again the old desire!

I loved thee with a silent desperation--
Now timid, now with jealousy brought low,
I loved devoutly,--with such deep devotion--
Ah may God grant another love thee so!

PUSHKIN.




A SERENADE

I watch Inesilla
Thy window beneath,
Deep slumbers the villa
In night's dusky sheath.

Enamoured I linger,
Close mantled, for thee--
With sword and with guitar,
O look once on me!

Art sleeping? Wilt wake thee
Guitar tones so light?
The argus-eyed greybeard
My swift sword shall smite.