... 

In the southern clime, 
Where the summer's prime 
Never fades away, 
Lovely Lyca lay. 

Seven summers old 
Lovely Lyca told; 
She had wander'd long 
Hearing wild birds' song. 

``Sweet sleep, come to me 
Underneath this tree. 
Do father, mother weep, 
Where can Lyca sleep? 

``Lost in desart wild 
Is your little child. 
How can Lyca sleep 
If her mother weep? 

``If her heart does ake 
Then let Lyca wake; 
If my mother sleep, 
Lyca shall not weep. 

``Frowning, frowning night, 
O'er this desart bright 
Let thy moon arise 
While I close my eyes.'' 

Sleeping Lyca lay 
While the beasts of prey, 
Come from caverns deep, 
View'd the maid asleep. 

The kingly lion stood 
And the virgin view'd, 
Then he gamboll'd round 
O'er the hollow'd ground. 

Leopards, tygers, play 
Round her as she lay, 
While the lion old 
Bow'd his mane of gold. 

And her bosom lick, 
And upon her neck 
From his eyes of flame 
Ruby tears there came; 

While the lioness 
Loos'd her slender dress, 
And naked they convey'd 
To caves the sleeping maid.