Detdiar sidj as efterluket wurden.
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O mother, mother, if thou dost indeed
Stand by the throne of God,
From thy poor captive child, with Him, oh, plead,
That He will take life's load !
Such were the thoughts that shook the breast
Of Melleff as he sat at rest.
Leaning against a stately palm
In the soft twilight's hallowed calm.
Within the garden he had toiled
All day, and now from work assoiled,
His whole soul flies to the far north,
To the dear sod that gave him birth.
His heart no hope of ransom cheers,
Full well he knows if parents' tears
Could pay the price, he soon were free.
But ah, their fatal poverty !
Daughter of wealth! a moment stay,
Ere to the dance thou haste away !
