Page:History of Oregon Literature.djvu/296

When the Angel of Death dropped her cadency down
On the strings of his heart for a lute?

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The Night has opened her minstrelsies,
And the stars peal over the sea —
I would you would sing a song to me, please,
Of the "grave of Eulalie",
The song of "Eulalie";
Sing in a loving and cheerful voice
As tho' you were singing for me.

Out of the sound of the wild sea song,
Away from the sound of the sea,
In the blackness of Night we rode along,
And he sung for me "Eulalie",
Now, one is dead and one is false,
And both are dead to me.

Together we rode through the dark, old wood,
His voice and his heart were near,
Our steeds they plunged in the solitude,
But my heart felt never a fear—
Never a pulse of fear,
Tho' I heard the rush of a river's flood,
And the way was uncertain and drear.

But why did I weep as I rode along,
When my heart was so free from care,
And he sang for me, and me only his song,
Of "Eulalie", dead and fair,
With a cheerful and love-like air?
Why did I weep as we rode along?
Riding —I cared not where.

The grave is a lonely place to hold
All of my precious to be.
But a sadder place is a heart that is cold —
A heart that is false to me
False and fickle is he,