210 HUNGARIAN LITERATURE On the bosom of youth summer's brighiness is glowing, And the buds and the blossoms abundantly spread ; But the dews and the darkess my path are o'erflowing, And the dead leaves of autumn are dropt on my head. For so our lives jade, like the bud and the biossom ; But come to me sweet one l in gentleness come l And lay thy dear heád on my welcoming bosom, That bead which to-morrow may bend o'er my tomb. If i die, wilt thou shed tears of sorrow above me, When my eyes shall be elosed in the dark silent grave 1 Ah l May not the words of some youth who will love thee Make thee willing to part with the name which I gave l Then take thou the veil of the widow and bind it, A dark -waving {lag, to the cross o'er my tomb ; I shall rise from the death-world, beloved, to find it A kerchief /or tears in that far land of gloom. But thought of oblivion shall never, oh never Weigh low on my spirit, or cause me to grieve, For my love will be with thee for ever and ever, And live while eternity's eyeles shall live. Even in his epic poems, Petőfi was <a.bove aU a lyric poet. He was too subjective to become an impartial narrator of events. Whenever the characters in his epics speak, it is from the heart of Petőfi that the w ords rise to their lips. His most popular epic poem is János Vitéz. Petőfi wrote it at the age of twenty- one, in a fortnight, in a mean, dingy littie back room. János Vitéz is the most truly Hungarian fabulous story ever told. What other poets tried to accomplish .w hen their talents had attained their fullest development, that is, to write an epic poem thoroughly popular and national in its spirit, Petőfi did with playfui ease at the very commeneement of his career. There is no imitation, in his work, of the poets of any other
