Fables in Song By Robert Lord Lytton |
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4.
All this, in his much-loved mountain-tongue,The man's heart, hearing it, understood.
And he thought of the old old days, so young!
But he spake not: only, let fall a flood
Of passionate notes of admiration,
Over his wan cheek silently sweeping.
As when, in their sorrow and desolation,
At the death of the summer, the hills are weeping.
![]() | Fables in Song | ![]() |