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The song from which this is taken is a great favourite with the
young girls of Athens of all classes. Their manner of singing it is by verses in rotation, the whole number present joining in the chorus. I have heard it frequently at our “ xápoe” in the winter of 1810-11. The air is plaintive and pretty.
I ENTER thy garden of roses,
Beloved and fair Haideé,
For surely I see her in thee.
Receive this fond truth from my tongue,
Yet trembles for what it has sung;
As the branch, at the bidding of Nature,
Adds fragrance and fruit to the tree, Through her eyes, through her every feature,
Shines the soul of the young Haideé.
But the loveliest garden grows hateful
When Love has abandon'd the bowersBring me hemlock--since mine is ungrateful,
That herb is more fragrant than flowers. The poison, when pour'd from the chalice,
Will deeply embitter the bowl; But when drunk to escape from thy malice,
The draught shall be sweet to my soul. Too cruel! in vain I implore thee
My heart from these horrors to save: Will nought to my bosom restore thee?
Then open the gates of the grave!
As the chief who to combat advances
Secure of his conquest before,
Hast pierc'd through my heart to its core.
By pangs which a smile would dispel ? Would the hope, which thou once bad’st me cherish,
For torture repay me too well ? Now sad is the garden of roses,
Beloved but false Haideé! There Flora all wither'd reposes,
And mourns o'er thine absence with me.
Written beneath a Picture.
Dear object of defeated care!
Though now of Love and thee bereft, To reconcile me with despair
Thine image and my tears are left.
'Tis said with Sorrow Time can cope;
But this I feel can ne'er be true: For by the death-blow of my Hope
My Memory immortal grew.