The Little Girl Lost
In futurity
I prophetic
see
That the
earth from sleep
(Grave the
sentence deep)
Shall arise
and seek
For her
maker meek;
And the desart 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 wander’d long
Hearing wild birds’ song.
‘Sweet
sleep, come to me
‘Underneath this tree.
‘Do father,
mother weep,
‘Where can Lyca sleep?’
‘lost in desart wild
‘Is your little child.
‘How can Lyca sleep
‘If her mother weep?’
‘If her
heart does ake
‘Then let Lyca wake;
‘If my mother sleep,
‘Lyca shall not weep.’
‘Frowning,
frowning night,
‘O’er this desart bright
‘Let thy
moon arise
‘While I close my eyes.’
Sleeping Lyca lay
While the
beasts of prey,
Come from
caverns deep,
View’d
the maid asleep.
The kingly
lion stood
And the
virgin view’d
Then he gamboll’d round
O’er the
hallowed ground
Leopards,
tigers, play
Round her
as she lay,
While the
lion old
Bow’d his
man of gold
And her
bosom lick,
And upon
her neck
From his
eyes of flame
Ruby tears
there came;
While the
lioness
Loos’d
her slender dress,
And naked
they convey’d
To caves
the sleeping maid.