On Ezla’s pleasant banks reclined,
Two happy lovers talked apart;
The myrtle with the rose they twined,
And vows renewed flowed from each heart.
To arms stern honour called the youth
His country’s freedom to maintain,
Ah! much he doubted then her truth,
For jealousy’s the lover’s bane.
Dejected when he viewed the strand,
She marked his mien, his altered eye,
Then wrote these words upon the sand
“Death for thy Ellen not inconstancy.”
All in an orange grove unseen
Sly Cupid laughing took his stand
On woman’s faith to see him lean
Or trust to vows inscribed in sand.
Fair Ezla’s Banks describe right well
The offerings to Saint Valentine
For all his hopes ere curfew bell
Each flattered lover must resign.
Yet for the mole that gilds thy cheek
I’ll give the wealth of Samarcand
Or on love’s pinions boldly seek
The gems of India’s glowing land.
To Lethe’s flood all fears I will confine
If thou wilt deign to be my Valentine.