A pastoral complaint in three double-quatrain stanzas signed "Selim." Eliza has departed the grove, leaving the poet to grieve her absence: "I'll encircle my temples with green, | On my bosom green leaves will I wear, | Not a colour but that shall be seen, | 'Tis the emblem of deepest despair." The Port Folio was a literary magazine published in Philadelphia.
Is it true that Eliza, no more,
By her presence our fields will adorn?
Has she gone, and left me to deplore,
The dear object, I ever must mourn?
Yes indeed! the sad tidings are true,
For, their truth, my soul's anguish declares,
To our vales she had bidden adieu,
And resisted the tenderest pray'rs.
For Eliza I search in the grove,
Or along by the rivulet's side,
O'er the meadow of willows I rove,
And thro' close-woven thickets I glide.
In her favourite walks now I roam,
Now reecho the woods with her name,
Kind relief then I seek for at home,
But my sorrow continues the same.
I'll encircle my temples with green,
On my bosom green leaves will I wear,
Not a colour but that shall be seen,
'Tis the emblem of deepest despair.
All lamenting, I know is in vain,
Yet I can't but give vent to my grief,
'Tis a soothing of wo, to complain,
That affords me a transient relief.