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There was a stranger sought our land, A youth, who with a painter's hand Traced our sweet valleys and our vines, The moonlight on the ruined shrines, And now and then the brow of pearl And black eyes of the peasant girl: We met and loved—ah, even now My pulse throbs to recall that vow! Our first kiss sealed, we stood beneath The cypress-tree's funereal wreath, That temple's roof. But what thought I Of aught like evil augury! I only felt his burning sighs, I only looked within his eyes, I saw no dooming star above, There is such happiness in love!