Page:Songs of Russia.djvu/57

 Sometimes in this dead stillness
 * Is heard a groaning deep;

The heart beats slowly, wearily,
 * And thought is lost in sleep.

But through the gloom your image
 * Shines like a magic lamp;

Like a bright beam, it drives away
 * The dark cell’s cold and damp.

For you is all forgotten;
 * I far away have flown

In dreams—and then my heart, dear love,
 * Is filled with you alone.

What fate has fallen to you
 * Of sorrow or delight?

Your path across life’s meadow,
 * Has it been smooth and bright?