Page:Anthology of Modern Slavonic Literature in Prose and Verse by Paul Selver.djvu/229

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 Gladness and hope have set their light In joyous eyes. They know not care, Those youthful eyes,—no sin is there. And all are filled with mirth and glee, And all are dancing. I alone Gaze, as there were a curse on me. I weep, I weep to all unknown. Why doI weep? Perchance to mourn, How without hap, as tempest-borne, The days of all my youth have flown. 



, lordlings, ye could only know How living creatures weep for woe, Ye would not pen idyllic lays, Nor unto God give empty praise, While mocking at the tears we shed. Yon cottage with the forest nigh We call a paradise: yet why? There once my heart with torment bled, And it was there my tears I shed, Earliest tears! Can e'er befall At God's decree, a cruel teen Which in that cottage ne'er was seen?— And that a paradise they call!  15