Page:Songs of the Slav.pdf/18



Slaves—Good it is to rest the weary body in the light of the moon 'Neath the palms here. Feasting over, our custodian sleeps now; Sit down 'mongst us, tuneful comrade, and thy sweetly sounding strings tune; Let thy song reveal the golden thoughts spun in your dreamy brow.

A Slave Girl.—Sing of flowers and stars! A Young Slave—Praise sing thou to a maid's fair form and eye.

Another.—Ring the bells of jest.

An Old Man.—Disclose the deeds of ages long gone by.

The Bard.—Other themes by far to-day resound through my unhappy soul, Like the roar and rumble of the storms that o'er the heavens roll. Far from these are flowery adornment, girlish grace, and heroes' pride: