Page:A Treasury of South African Poetry.djvu/210

 He fell upon her neck and wept,
 * And pressed her to his heart:

"My peerless Amakeya! come—
 * We'll never, never part."

The white man's haughty look relaxed,
 * A tear roll'd down his face,

And, wond'ringly, he gazed upon
 * That form of matchless grace.

And then—with mien as if he spoke
 * To dame of high degree—

He bow'd before that savage girl,
 * And answered soothingly:

"Thou noble creature! God has made
 * Thee beautiful and fair;

And given thee a soul as pure
 * As e'er breathed Christian pray'r.

"But go,—I dare not hear thee speak,
 * I dare not hear thee pray;

It grieves my heart, my noble maid,
 * But—I must answer "nay":

"The stern command I gave, does come
 * From higher pow'r than mine;

But go in peace, thy words have smoothed
 * Thy father's lot and thine."

Then mournfully the maiden look'd
 * Upon her aged sire,

Still weeping on her breast, as if
 * In tears he would expire.