Youth Enamoured

“WHERE wert thou, Misho! yesterday?” ‘O ’twas a happy day to me! A lovely maiden cross’d my way, A maiden smiling lovelily. And those sweet smiles for me were meant; I claimed her—mother answer’d ‘No!’ Would steal her—vain was the intent, For many guardians watch’d her so. There grows a verdant almond-tree Before her house—its boughs I’ll climb; Wail like a cuckoo mournfully, And swallow-like, at evening time, Pour forth my woe in throbbings deep, And like a sorrowing widow sigh, And like a youthful maiden weep. So may her mother turn her eye, Pitying my grief, her heart may move, And she may give me her I love.’