ALAS! and alas, my sorrow! | |
| The pain that hath no relief, | |
| Alas! for the dreadful morrow | |
| To dawn on our day of grief!— | |
| O land in the orient glowing, | 5 |
| The last of thy smiles hath shone | |
| On us, for Fate’s wind is blowing, | |
| And the wave of our doom speeds on, | |
| And a blight from the westward cometh, and the bloom of our life is gone! | |
| |
| O land of the morn-bright mountains | 10 |
| With the purple moors at their feet, | |
| Of the clear leaf-mirroring fountains | |
| And rivers of waters sweet; | |
| Of the fragrant wood-bowers twining, | |
| And the cataract’s sounding roar, | 15 |
| Of the lakes in their splendor shining, | |
| With the pine-woods whispering o’er,— | |
| Ah! naught but my lord, my lover, could lure me from thy green shore! | |
| |
| Sweet is it in Daro’s valley | |
| To list to the falling rill, | 20 |
| To the breeze in the woodland alley | |
| And the goshawk’s note from the hill, | |
| To the light-winged swallow pursuing | |
| His mate with a joyous cry, | |
| To the cuckoo’s voice and the cooing | 25 |
| Of doves in the pine-tops high, | |
| And the throstle’s song in the thicket, and the lark’s from the morning sky! | |
| |
| Under the summer arbor | |
| By the fresh sea-breezes fanned, | |
| Where the waters of Drayno’s harbor | 30 |
| Sing over silver sand, | |
| Happy from morn till even | |
| We ’ve watched the seabirds play, | |
| And the ocean meeting the heaven | |
| In the distance far away, | 35 |
| And the gleam of the white-sailed galleys, and the flash of the sunlit spray! | |
| |
| In Masan the green, the blooming, | |
| How happy our days did pass; | |
| Many its flowers perfuming, | |
| And studding like gems the grass: | 40 |
| There the Foxglove purpled the hollow, | |
| And the Iris flaunted its gold, | |
| And the flower that waits for the swallow, | |
| Its dainty bloom to unfold, | |
| With the Hyacinth blue and the Primrose, laught in the breezy wold. | 45 |
| |
| In Eta of sunny weather | |
| ’Neath our happy home-porch hid, | |
| On venison sweet from the heather | |
| And flesh of the mountain kid, | |
| On game from the forest cover | 50 |
| And fish from the crystal stream, | |
| We feasted till eve was over, | |
| And the moon with her silver gleam | |
| Soared o’er the dusky pine-woods out from the realm of dream. | |
| |
| O land of the East! O Giver | 55 |
| Of freedom from sore distress! | |
| O land where no cloud came ever | |
| To darken our happiness! | |
| O home of pleasure and promise | |
| And peace unto mine and me, | 60 |
| When I see thy shores fade from us, | |
| I sigh in my misery, | |
| And send my voice o’er the waters crying farewell to thee! | |
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