All-radiant Lady Arabell
Glanced scornfully aside,--
Alas! for he hath loved her well,
In spite of all her pride;
Yet coldly to that noble heart
In all its glowing youth,
Away! she cried,-- and spurn'd aside
Its tenderness and truth.

Away!-- and at her feet he fell
As cold and white as stone!
And heartless Lady Arabell
Has left him all alone;
Alone, to live? alone, to die?
Alone? -- Yet who art thou,--
Some guardian angel from th sky
To bless and aid him now?

Ah! Florence loves young Cecil well,
And pines this many a day,--
For star-eyed sister Arabell
Hath won his heart away,--
Hath won it all by treacherous arts
To fling it all aside,
And break a pair of loving hearts
For triumph and for pride!

Fair Florence with her eyes of blue
And locks of golden light;
Dark Arabell's of raven hue
With flashing orbs of night;
And has young Cecil chosen well
Between that sister pair,
The proud and brilliant Arabell
Or gentle Florence fair?

O bitter morn! O blessed morn!
For lo, he turns to love
No more that raven queen of scorn,
But this sweet sister dove:
In spite of lustrous Arabell
And all her envious pride,
Young Cecil loves his Florence well,
And -- Florence is his bride.