THE LITTLE GIRL LOST

In futurity

I prophesy

That the earth from sleep

( Grave the sentence deep )

Shall arise, and seek

For her Maker meek;

And the desert wild

Become a garden mild.

In the southern clime,

Where the summer’ s prime

Never fades away,

Lovely Lyca lay.

Seven summers old

Lovely Lyca told.

She had wandered long,

Hearing wild birds’ song.

‘ Sweet sleep, come to me,

Underneath this tree;

Do father, mother, weep?

Where can Lyca sleep?

‘ Lost in desert wild

Is your little child.

How can Lyca sleep

If her mother weep?

‘ If her heart does ache,

Then let Lyca wake;

If my mother sleep,

Lyca shall not weep.

‘ Frowning, frowning night,

O’ er this desert bright

Let thy moon arise,

While I close my eyes.’

Sleeping Lyca lay,

While the beasts of prey,

Come from caverns deep,

Viewed the maid asleep.

The kingly lion stood,

And the virgin viewed:

Then he gambolled round

O’ er the hallowed ground.

Leopards, tigers, play

Round her as she lay;

While the lion old

Bowed his mane of gold,

And her bosom lick,

And upon her neck,

From his eyes of flame,

Ruby tears there came;

While the lioness

Loosed her slender dress,

And naked they conveyed

To caves the sleeping maid.