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 Further streaked with a patch of green, And further still, more green between, Until all blends into a blue-green hue. Across the restful evening lake The maiden casts her tired gaze; Across the restful evening lake Now glitters the heaven's starry maze. Like a fallen angel appears the maid, Spring's amaranth, drooping in the shade. Beauty still lingers in her cheeks. The hour that took her dearest treasure Wrote in her features much that speaks About her sorrow's brimful measure.

The twentieth day sped by today. And 'cross the land, dreams hold their sway. The smouldering fires quickly die Even upon the reddish sky That stretches o'er the blue-black hills. "He comes not!—He is gone for e'er! I, whom he spurned, now face despair!" A painful grief her soul o'er fills While anguish grips the aching heart, And with the water's mystic groans Mingle the maiden's plaintive tones. Reflected star lights seem to dart Within her streaming starry tears. Those burning sparks on her cheeks so cold Dwindle and die like falling spheres, And where they fall, all blossoms fold.

Look! As she flits now up and down; She leans across the mountain's brim,