Page:The witch-maid & other verses (1914).djvu/88

From Wikisource
Jump to: navigation, search
This page has been validated.

FOUR TRANSLATIONS

Ashamed I laid my mantle
 And crown upon the sod,
And sorrowless and joyless
 The dusty road I plod.


III

(Storm)

Out of my slumber I woke in affright;
Why does the lark sing so deep in the night?

The day is gone, the morning is far,
Down on my pillow shines many a star;

And ever the song of the lark I hear;
Oh, voice of the dawning, I shrink in fear.

84