  Oh! he my prince, that left my side O'er the twain Lover Hills Saying that in far KÍshiu's tide He'd hunt for pearls to bring them home. When will he come? With trembling hope I hie me on the busy street, To ask the evening horoscope, That straightway thus gives answer meet— The lover dear, my pretty girl, For whom thou waitest, comes not yet, Because he's seeking ev'ry pearl Where out at sea the billows fret. "He comes not yet, my pretty girl! Because among the riplets clear He's seeking, finding ev'ry pearl; 'Tis that delays thy lover dear. "Two days at least must come and go, Sev'n days at most will bring him back; 'Twas he himself that told me so:— Then cease, fair maid, to cry Alack!" Anon. |
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