The Last Time I Came O'er The Moor

     The last time I came o'er the moor,
     And left Maria's dwelling,
     What throes, what tortures passing cure,
     Were in my bosom swelling:
     Condemn'd to see my rival's reign,
     While I in secret languish;
     To feel a fire in every vein,
     Yet dare not speak my anguish.

     Love's veriest wretch, despairing, I
     Fain, fain, my crime would cover;
     Th' unweeting groan, the bursting sigh,
     Betray the guilty lover.
     I know my doom must be despair,
     Thou wilt nor canst relieve me;
     But oh, Maria, hear my prayer,
     For Pity's sake forgive me!

     The music of thy tongue I heard,
     Nor wist while it enslav'd me;
     I saw thine eyes, yet nothing fear'd,
     Till fear no more had sav'd me:
     The unwary sailor thus, aghast,
     The wheeling torrent viewing,
     'Mid circling horrors yields at last
     To overwhelming ruin.