But when I think upon my bride
But this morn clinging to my side
And now—alas! in such reverse
When e'en her memory is a curse!—
Who-could, with calm dispassionate view
Say, thus and thus I ought to do?
Go! prate to others of relief
Who ne'er have known like mine a grief.
You never lost a Mytah! No!
You never knew like mine a woe.
How canst thou my bereavement tell?
His triumph—ha! thou speakest well;—
I see, I see her at his side;—
Henceforward Vengeance is my bride."
Assembling at Moyarra's call
The dusky chiefs around him throng;
Waiting his speech, in silence all
As at the close of funeral song.
"Brothers! have any heard strange sound,
Or seen strange footsteps on the ground?"
Each viewed askance his neighbour's face,