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The Song Book 275
" Tell me, captive, why in anguish Foes have dragg'd thee here to dwell,
Where poor Christians as they languish, Hear no sound of Sabbath bell ?"
" 'Twas on Transylvania's Bannat,
When the crescent shone afar, Like a pale disastrous planet,
O'er the purple tide of war; In that day of desolation,
Lady, I was captive made, Bleeding for my Christian nation,
By the walls of high Belgrade."
" Captive, should the brightest jewel
From my turban set thee free ?" " Lady! no; the gift were cruel,
Ransom'd yet, if reft of thee. Say, fair Princess, would it grieve thee
Christian climes should we behold ?" " Nay, bold knight, I would not leave thee,
Were thy ransom paid in gold."
Now in heaven's blue expansion
Rose the midnight star to view, When to leave her father's mansion,
Thrice she wept, and bade adieu— " Fly we then while none discover."
Tyrant barques, in vain ye ride! Soon at Rhodes the British lover
Clasps his blooming eastern bride.
Words by Campbell.
Tvne Peggy Ban. From Bunting's Music of Ireland.