Parents were afar,
Strangers came not near,
And the maiden soon forgot her fear.
Tired with kisses sweet,
They agree to meet
When the silent sleep
Waves o'er heaven's deep,
And the weary tired wanderers weep.
To her father white
Came the maiden bright;
But his loving look,
Like the holy book
All her tender limbs with terror shook.
'Ona, pale and weak,
To thy father speak!
Oh the trembling fear!
The repressive nature of convention, which sees sin in the purity of their love-making, has a terrible negative affect on her. She now ‘with terror shook’. Societal constraints destroy her joy.
A Little Girl Lost