ot so like
My loved Italian land,
Its southern flowers, its gorgeous skies,
Blue sea, and golden sand.
For while I gaze, a whispering voice
Steals sadly through my brain,
And tells me, I must never hope
To see that spot again.
And I must weep, from day to day
For that loved home, now far away!

I close my eyes, and fancy paints
So vividly and clear,
Each lovely spot, each well-known sound.
To mem'ry ever dear;
I hear again the vesper-bell,
Chiming to evening prayer;
While the cheerful song of the Gondolier,
Floats through the balmy air.
And thus I dream till dawn of day,
Of that fair home, now far away!

And yet the chain which binds me hero
Is dearer far to me,
Than the beauties of my palace land,
Girt by the glorious sea.
For his dear love, I left them all,
And while that love is mine,
If dreary wastes were now my home,
Think not I would repine.
Yet still one thought, from day to day,
Tells of my home, now far away!

But if his love should ever fade,
Like twilight o'er this shore,
And whisper'd words of tenderness,
Now mine, be heard no more!
Then no reproach shall meet his ear,
No weeping meet his eye;
I'd leave him ere he form'd the wish,
And leave him but to die;
For I would seek, ere close of day,
Death, in that home now far away.

As she ceased, a tap was heard at the door; and she, bidding whoever was
without to enter, a young girl appeared, and closing the door,
approached her. She wore the red embroidered Greek cap, with her hair
hanging in two long plaits behind, full trousers, and a silk waistcoat,
reaching to the knees. Her age might have been about fourteen, and she
was very pretty, with black, flashing eyes, and a figure rather full
than slight, and somewhat below the common height, and a countenance to
which health and spirits gave an animated expression, which would have
made features far inferior to hers appear to advantage.

She seated herself on a cushion at the feet of the young lady with an
affectionate familiarity, and looking up in her face, said, in the soft
tongue of modern Greece--

"Oh, do continue those sweet strains, lady. Though they made me sad, I
came up on purpose to listen to them, and to make my heart lighten the
grief of yours by sharing it with you."

"Thanks, my good Mila. You are ever kind," answered the lady; and
though she spoke Romaic, she had difficulty in expressing her