"Sweet sleep, come to me Do father, mother, weep? "Lost in desert wild "If her heart does ache, "Frowning, frowning night, O'er this desert bright Let thy moon arise, While I close my eyes." Sleeping Lyca lay While the beasts of prey, THE LITTLE GIRL FOUND. ALL the night in woe Lyca's parents go Over valleys deep, While the deserts weep. Tired and woe-begone, Seven nights they sleep Among shadows deep, And dream they see their child Starved in desert wild. Pale through pathless ways Rising from unrest, The trembling woman pressed With feet of weary woe ; She could no further go. In his arms he bore Her, armed with sorrow sore; Till before their way A crouching lion lay. Turning back was vain : Smelling to his prey ; They look upon his eyes, |