Preservation

My maiden she proved false to me; To hate all joys I soon began, Then to a flowing stream I ran,-- The stream ran past me hastily. There stood I fix'd, in mute despair; My head swam round as in a dream; I well-nigh fell into the stream, And earth seem'd with me whirling there. Sudden I heard a voice that cried-- I had just turn'd my face from thence-- It was a voice to charm each sense: "Beware, for deep is yonder tide!" A thrill my blood pervaded now, I look'd and saw a beauteous maid I asked her name--twas Kate, she said-- "Oh lovely Kate! how kind art thou! "From death I have been sav'd by thee, 'Tis through thee only that I live; Little 'twere life alone to give, My joy in life then deign to be!" And then I told my sorrows o'er, Her eyes to earth she sweetly threw; I kiss'd her, and she kiss'd me too, And--then I talked of death no more.