With an endless whisper crying:
"Our mighty Leader perished."
As a wind that howls and bounds,
O'er the rigid circle sounds,
"Our mighty Leader perished."
As the whispering of the trees
'neath the mount, where echoes moan,
Thus resounds upon the breeze
In an unchanged monotone:
"Our mighty Leader perished."
Distant forests faintly shiver,
And lamenting voices quiver:
"Our beloved Master perished."
45
