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.