Alas! 'twas only yesterday a stranger reached the town--
Thou offeredst him thy heart and bade him keep it for his own!
O Zaida, tell me, how was this? for oft I heard thee say
That thou wert mine and 'twas to me thy heart was given away.
Hast thou more hearts than one, false girl, or is it changefulness
That makes thee give that stranger guest the heart that I possess?
One heart alone is mine, and that to thee did I resign.
If thou hast many, is my love inadequate to thine?
O Zaida, how I fear for thee, my veins with anger glow;
O Zaida, turn once more to me, and let the stranger go.
As soon as he hath left thy side his pledges, thou wilt find,
Were hollow and his promises all scattered to the wind.
And if thou sayst thou canst not feel the pains that absence brings,
'Tis that thy heart has never known love's gentle whisperings.
'Tis that thy fickle mind has me relinquished here to pine,
Like some old slave forgotten in this palace court of thine.
Ah, little dost thou reck of me, of all my pleasures flown,
But in thy pride dost only think, false lady, of thine own.
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