Page:Cheskian Anthology.pdf/106

 "My maiden! my maiden! so speak not to me,

My presents were once not unwelcome to thee."

" presents were welcome—yet none could I save,

Not one could I bring to the stores of the grave!

" thou to my mother—and bid her restore

Every gift to thy hands which I valued before,

Then fling the gold ring in the depth of the sea,

And eternity's peace shall be given to me.

And sink that white kerchief deep, deep in the wave,

That my head may repose undisturbed in the grave."

Of this remarkable production two versions are given by Čelakowsky, i. p. 4, and iii. p. 16.

, far beyond the gloomy grove—

Far, far art thou removed, my love,