Page:Cheskian Anthology.pdf/143

 bought himself a mourning dress,

A dress of rosy taffety—

"Why hast thou left me in distress—

Of flowers the sweetest flower to me."

bid the death-bells loudly toll

From every Turkish mosk—and ye

Might hear the heavy grave-song roll

From Turkey even to Moldawy.

turk sped homeward—and the maid

Her coffin left—for purer air:

"Now God be with thee, turk!" she said,

And truth was in the maiden's prayer.