Page:Bohemian legends and other poems.djvu/58



Passing through the somber forest,
 * Maidens two I saw.

Tell me, maidens, tell me, fair ones,
 * That I hold in awe,

Is my loved one midst your number, Making hay, or doth she slumber?”

Ah, alas! your loved one slumbers,
 * Deep within the grave.

Yesterday we laid her lowly,
 * Where the grasses wave.”

Dead! my loved one, oh, tell me where Lies my loved one, without compare?”

’Tis a fair way that we took her,
 * Winding up the hill;

Where the youths trod there are pebbles,
 * You can see them still.

Where the maidens trod are roses, There she lies in death’s encloses.”

Tell me, maidens, where she sleepeth,
 * Whom I loved so well.”

Not far from the gateway, lover,
 * By the graveyard cell.”

Twice I wandered round God’s acre, Praying sore unto my Maker.