the st time i came o'er the moor
the st time i came o'er the moor,
a maria's dwelling,
what throes, what tortures passing cure,
were in my bosom swelling:
n'd to see my rival's reign,
while i i nguish;
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' uing groan, the bursting sigh,
betray the guilty lover.
i know my doom must be despair,
thou wilt nor st relieve me;
but oh, maria, hear my prayer,
for pity's sake five me!
the music of thy tongue i heard,
nor wist while it ensv'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 cirg horrors yields at st
to overwhelming ruin.