Читать книгу The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 13, No. 374, June 6, 1829 - Various - Страница 4

I'll come to your Ball—dearest Emma,

(I had nearly forgotten to say)

Provided no awkward dilemma

Should happen to keep me away:

For I burn with impatience to see you,

All our hopes, all our joys to recall,

And you'll find I've no wishes to flee you,

When next I shall come to your Ball.

Strange men, stranger things, and strange cities

I have seen since I parted from you,

But your beauty, your love, and your wit is

A charm that has still held me true,

And tho' mighty has been the temptation,

Your image prevail'd over all,

And I still held the fond adoration

For one I must meet at the Ball.

I have knelt at the shrine of a Donna,

And languish'd for months in her train,

But still I was whisper'd by honour,

And came to my senses again,

When I thought of the vows I had plighted,

And the stars that I once used to call

As my witnesses—could I have slighted?

Her I long to behold at the Ball.

You say that my nature is altered,

"I've forgotten the how and the when,

That my voice which was best when it faltered"

Is rough by my converse with men:

Believe me that still you will find me

Of lovers the truest of all,

And the spell that has bound still shall bind me,

And I'll come, dearest girl, to your Ball.

I have waded through battle fields gory,

To my country and honour been true,

And my name has been famous in story,

But dear Emma, it all was for you.

I've longed when my troubles were over,

Unhurt by the bay'net or ball.

To forget I was ever "a rover,"

And claim you my bride at your Ball.