 | The lion's cub |  |
46
LOVERS' HEARTS.
(Servian.)
Full of wine, two branches of a vine
To the walls of Buda clung;
But no, they were not branches full of wine—
They were lovers, fair and young.
Happy both, and bound in tender troth,
They were rudely torn apart;
Dreadful was the dolor fell on both—
Ruined hope and broken heart!
(Though those lovers now are dead,
This is what their spirits said):
To the walls of Buda clung;
But no, they were not branches full of wine—
They were lovers, fair and young.
Happy both, and bound in tender troth,
They were rudely torn apart;
Dreadful was the dolor fell on both—
Ruined hope and broken heart!
(Though those lovers now are dead,
This is what their spirits said):
“There's a rose that in love's garden grows,
Sweeter, redder than the rest;
Go, and pluck, and wear that royal rose
On thy heart and in thy breast;
Watch it, and as its petals drop apart,
Remember so my heart dies in thy heart!”
Sweeter, redder than the rest;
Go, and pluck, and wear that royal rose
On thy heart and in thy breast;
Watch it, and as its petals drop apart,
Remember so my heart dies in thy heart!”
“Bright as gold, a shaft of marble cold
Rises where love's fountains flow;
And on that shaft there is a cup of gold.
And the cup is full of snow;
With thy whiter hand take up
All the snow from out that cup,
And, like a bird within its nest,
On my heart, and in my breast,
Softly lay the snow, and say:
As it melts in tears away,
So his hopes of life depart,
For so my broken heart dies in thy heart!”
Rises where love's fountains flow;
And on that shaft there is a cup of gold.
And the cup is full of snow;
With thy whiter hand take up
All the snow from out that cup,
47
On my heart, and in my breast,
Softly lay the snow, and say:
As it melts in tears away,
So his hopes of life depart,
For so my broken heart dies in thy heart!”
| The lion's cub | |