Man’s Faith

Say! dost thou remember when under the vine, Thy tears fell in streams on the breast of thy maid; When thy heart burst in joy as I own’d thee for mine? Alas! for the maiden whose peace is betray’d, By the tears and the vows of a falsehood like thine! As the changeable sky—now o’erclouded, now bright, Is the faith of thy race—their language to-day, “I will wed thee to-morrow, my love and my light!” To-morrow—“Let’s wait till the harvest’s away.” The harvest is ended, the winter is nigh, And another maid dwells in their hearts and their eye.