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

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