Chapter 2

CITY--EVENING--ENTER ODORA--LOVER SPEAKS.

Again I meet my love. 'Tis wondrous bliss, That such a Moon shines on my spirit's night. Like yonder moon, at times, she disappears;-- But still the virtue of her visit stays, Till she returns, with moon-like certainty. Come, my Odora come! sing,

ODORA SINGS.

When winds are cold, and winter strips, The Oak and ghostly Pine; And fastens every streamlet's lips, And cold icicles shine: Still fair amid the scene so bleak, The daisy flower is seen; So truest love will comfort speak, And make life's winter green.

That strain would charm an adder even to tears, So sweet a song, from mouth so full of grace. Before I saw thee, my Odora! ne'er I thought this world could ever grow so fair To me. Love throws a rosy, sparkling tissue On mountain, hill, lake, tree, shrub, leaf and flower, Love sweetens every note of nature seven fold. But sing again. Thy voice is like a harp.

ODORA SINGS.

When winds are bleak, and snows are deep, And waters frozen dumb; And voiceless insects snugly sleep, Where beam can never come: The daisy blooms beneath some tree, That screens her form from harm;-- So, love! I nestle near to thee, And live beneath thy arm.

Oh! angel! thou dost sing a meaning lay, And teachest wisdom, in sweet poetry. But whence, my fair philosopher, thy lore, Hath God bestowed such deep laid knowledge on A light and playsome girl, whose pranks and wiles Have quite bewitched my would-be firmer soul. Methinks thou singest well to-night; adieu, And may pure angels bring thee radiant dreams.