Page:Anthology of Modern Slavonic Literature in Prose and Verse by Paul Selver.djvu/300

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can there be a heart by hope unthrilled? Hark to the sound Of black-birds; nests around With mighty drops of dew are filled.

The forest-lovers in calm, rock-strewn ways How joyously were beaming! Their dreaming Was knit by doves amid their smiling lays.

Quoth they: "Who can us here behold?" Then sped The sun, and quivering shed Upon their clinging lips his gold.

"Who knows of all the vows that we have uttered?" Then from a flower drew nigh A butterfly And 'mid their hair entangled fluttered.

Who would of sun, of butterfly beware? For see, Beneath each darkening tree A very idyll they prepare. "Eclogues and Songs" (1880).