Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 1).pdf/282



Hush—hush! Oh, hear!

I roamed through the uplands so heavy of cheer; The little birds quavered in bush and in brere; The little birds quavered, around and above: Wouldst know of the sowing and growing of love?

It grows like the oak tree through slow-rolling years; 'Tis nourished by dreams, and by songs, and by tears; But swiftly 'tis sown; ere a moment speeds by, Deep, deep in the heart love is rooted for aye.

But swiftly 'tis sown; ere a moment speeds by, Deep, deep in the heart love is rooted for aye.

[Absently.] Did you speak to me?—I heard not clearly—?