. The book of ballads . .I w ?^T * ]..Vi> ^OIK* lit |lllt. 4gfe*^-^~ rnn^23S^^;,j^^i^^=:^sSf?.sifrr^flgr; A. iTlir (Tniiuirt nnii tlir Jliistrnlinii Iniiii. Thy skin is dark as jet, Indye, Tliy cheek is shai-p and liigh,And theres a cruel leer, love, Within thy rolling eye !These tangled ebon tresses ]Xo comb hath eer gone through,And thy forehead, it is furrowd by The elegant tattoo ! I love thee,—oh, I love thee. Thou strangely feeding maid!Nay, lift not thus thy boomerang, I meant not to upbraid!Come, let me taste those yellow lijis That neer were tasted yet,Save when the shipwreckd mari

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. The book of ballads . .I w ?^T * ]..Vi> ^OIK* lit |lllt. 4gfe*^-^~ rnn^23S^^;,j^^i^^=:^sSf?.sifrr^flgr; A. iTlir (Tniiuirt nnii tlir Jliistrnlinii Iniiii. Thy skin is dark as jet, Indye, Tliy cheek is shai-p and liigh,And theres a cruel leer, love, Within thy rolling eye !These tangled ebon tresses ]Xo comb hath eer gone through,And thy forehead, it is furrowd by The elegant tattoo ! I love thee,—oh, I love thee. Thou strangely feeding maid!Nay, lift not thus thy boomerang, I meant not to upbraid!Come, let me taste those yellow lijis That neer were tasted yet,Save when the shipwreckd mariner Passd through them for a Avhet. Mr 2^^ -as^~^^^ S\ 74

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Keywords: ., bookauthormartintheodoresir1816, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1840