or, Love and Magic
A Room in the Enchanter's Castle.
MOROC. Oh Love, destroyer Love, this ravage cease,
Or give me conquest, or restore my peace.
I burn! I burn!
Where e'er I turn
Each object feeds my flame;
The hinds that whistle care away,
The birds that sing, the beam that play,
Show what a wretch I am!
'A wretch of reason and of power,
'Who in this trying hour10 'Cannot conquer or retreat,
'Passion all my pow'r disarms,
'Moroc yields to woman's charms,
'And trembles at her feet.'
MOROC. Oh, Kaliel! Kaliel! Speak, thou faithful slave,
What hope? Will Zaida yield? Alas, I rave
KALIEL. Torn from her lover's arms, the mournful fair