Born yesternight, I died to-day;
In the green forest I was born,
Where no sponsor, where no priest;
Therefore unbaptized I come!"
Then the heavenly watcher answered:
"Go thou yet a short way on;
Go on, my babe, and thou shalt find
Three watersprings; from one to drink,
From one to wash, the third a font of blessing.
The first shall breast-milk be to thee;
The second is thy mother's tears,
And from the third thou shalt baptized be,
And joyful entrance gain to heaven."
J. W. W.
CXXII
CHRISTMAS
Why trembleth so the earth,
Set in this sphere of blue?
Christ our God was born hereon,
He, the Virgin's Holy Son,
Christ Who heaven and earth created,
And us sinners on the earth.
In awe when He shall come to judge,
We all shall stand before Him then,
Both righteous and unrighteous men.
J. W. W.
CXXIII
CHRIST THINKS OF HIS MOTHER
On angel wing in upward flight
Rise soul and body of our Lord,
When piercing heaven with high gaze,
He calleth for one down to go,
Down to darksome Golgotha,
Where Mary bending near the Cross,
Weepeth in bitter agony:
"Let herald hasten now to tell her
I am risen unto heaven."
Great Michael heard, two angels sent,
Swift to convey the tidings glad:
"O thou of women all most blest,
Let not thy heart with fear be filled;
From the tomb thy Son is risen,
Risen to the Father's throne,
Saving men from Death's dominion."
J. W. W.
CXXIV
THE BLESSED MARY AND JOHN THE BAPTIST
The Blessed Mary sent an angel
Unto John the Camel-girdled--
"God's wish it is, and my wish too,
That thou shouldst now my Son baptize."
John went responsive to the river,
Down into Jordan with the Christ,
And there upon him with his Lord,
Open wide the gate of heaven,
The roseate sun did light the east,
Sign of that Spirit-first of which spake John,
Whose purging heat doth purify from sin,
And in Jordan's flowing river
Man's sin was taken all away!
Our salvation is in heaven!
Save, O God, all trusting souls,
Save them from the devil's toils.
J. W. W.
CXXV
THE HOLY MOTHER
Sadly walked the Holy Mother
On the Holy Mountain.
Suddenly espied she something
Brightly shining in the dust:
The Cross, it was, of her own Son.
With gentlest hands she caressed it,
She did wash it with her tears,
And after dried it with her hair.
Kneeling then she uttered prayer.
Speaking to the Holy Cross:
"O sweet Cross, thou Cross of honour,
Upon thee my Son has died,
Hellish pains on thee He suffered,
Hellish pains from those hot nails,
To redeem our sinful souls.
When He did upon thee bleed,
His blood it fell in priceless seed,
Whence there sprang all lovely flowers,
And angels, coming down to gather,
Made them into wreathes and garlands
That they might adorn all heaven."
J. W. W.
CXXVI
DREAM OF THE HOLY VIRGIN
The Holy Virgin dreaming slept,
And in her dream a great tree grew,
Its branches from her own heart crept,
O'er spreading earth, north, south, east, west,
And piercing, spire-like, heaven's blue.
Sore troubled by her dream she rose
And sought straightway a saintly brother;
"Hear Saint Basil, my brother hear!
Let me tell my vision wondrous
I dreamed and lo! a great tree grew,
Its branches from my own heart crept,
O'erspreading earth north, south, east, west,
And towering up through heaven's blue.
What saith this vision Saint, to you?"
Then Basil answered to the Virgin:
"O sister dear, thy vision's clear:
'A tree did spring from thy warm heart?'
To bear the Christ shall be thy part.
'Those spreading branches covering all?'
Sinners He'll save from evil's thrall.
'That height spire-piercing heaven's blue?'
To God the Father Christ shall rise
Passing from earth and fleshly view."
J. W. W.
CXXVII
MOTHER AT THE TOMB OF HER SON
Alas! my son, how fareth it with thee,
In thy new dwelling, new and strange and dark?
Strange thy dwelling without windows!
At daybreak, Vinko, thy sad mother rose,
Her earliest thought as but of thee,
Her first thought, Vinko; Vinko her first call!
Thorns are growing at the house-door,
Cuckoos mourn around the house,
Downcast thy brothers wait for thee,
To talk with thee, to walk with thee--
But now that ne'er can be.
With head bent down and brow o'ercast,
They make their way--for where art thou!
In ashes our hearth fire is hidden,
And when I saw the sun this morning,
I thought: It is the moon,
When thy sisters said to me:
"Dim thine eyes, it is the sun!"
"For me no sun," said I to them,
"Pale in the dust now is my sun,
No light have I above the earth."
Down in thy dwelling, oh my son,
Say, is it cold, my Sun, my Sun;
If it be cold as is my breast
It is too cold, too cold to rest.[37]
J. W. W.
CXXVIII
MOTHER OVER HER DEAD SON
Where art thou flying? Where, oh where?
My falcon?
To what silent land and lone?
Say, hero mine!
Around thy friends and brothers ask me:
How shall I answer them!
"Where goes Perko? Tell us, Mother!"
Woe to me, oh woe to me!
If I answered, I might blame thee!
How blame _thee_?
Alway thou askedst me: May I go here--or should
I stay?
I knew thy way!
But now thou askedst not; nor may I give thee
"Yea" or "nay,"--
O blank, blank day!
Better, child, I went to thee, than to stay
As mother here
Having lost the light of day!
J. W. W.
CXXIX
MOTHER'S LAMENT FOR HER SON
Wherefore do I marvel, wherefore need I wonder?
Traveller the dearest!
That through this lower world already thou hast sped,
Ray of light the fleetest!
Together we'd a little talk, but we looked for more,
Thou my golden store!
To the realms of heaven thou from earth art gone,
Thou my heaven and earth!
Thou thy flight hast taken, sure, to a land of flowers,
Dearest of my flowers!
Thy journey leadeth up to God, unto the blest in Paradise,
Thou my Paradise!
Thou shalt behold the Judgment Place,
Merciful my son!
Soon shalt reach those halls of rest,
Thou who gav'st me labour!
There shalt find the noble dead,
Thou my sweetest life!
Greet them all, the rich and poor,
Best of all my riches!
Salute the noblemen and princes.
Thou my prince of princes!
J. W. W.
CXXX
GREATEST GRIEF FOR A BROTHER
O'er Neven woods the sun went down,
The sun went down behind the forest,
As came the heroes off the sea.
The young wife counted anxiously,
The wife of George the Hospodar,
Counted the warriors, found them all,
Save her three treasures who were missing.
She could not find her Hospodar
Nor the best man at their wedding,
And the third treasure was not there;
This treasure was her dearest brother.
For her brave lord she cuts her tresses,
For her best man she wounds her cheeks,
And for her brother puts out both her eyes.
She cuts her hair, it grows again;
She wounds her cheeks, the wounds do heal;
But none can heal those hurt blind eyes,
Nor yet her heart for her lost brother.
J. W. W.
CXXXI
THE DEATH CHAMBER OF HER FATHER-IN-LAW
Why art thou thus attired?
My more than father!
Why art thou thus bedight, so knightly armed?
My fearless knight!
Thou art departing for the city?
My shining city!
In order there to meet the lords and knights,
O my wise lord!
Or go'st thou to a marriage feast?
My pride, my noble guest!
--But why! thine eyes are closed to me!
O closed, O closed to me!
And--can it be!--thy mouth is bound!
This black, black morning!
If thou art gone, and com'st not back--
How empty is the house!
How is it thou couldst leave us so?
To us, O woe, O woe!
Far, far thy journey, and the end not here!
But better is it there!
Mother and father, they will greet thee there,
Among the Blest!
Thy brothers, too, and children in celestial light,--
O blessed, blessed sight!
Thee will they greet: we in their thoughts shall be,
O heavenly harmony!
But thou wilt stay, and ne'er return to us,
O woe, O woe to us!
J. W. W.
CXXXII
KOLEDO
The king came to court our Margaret fair,
Koledo, Koledo!
And mother sang clear to our Margaret fair:
Koledo, Koledo!
"Oh, Margaret, haste! my daughter dear,
Koledo, Koledo!
The King, he has come to court you here,
Koledo, Koledo!"
Then thus sweet Margaret to mother's call:
"Koledo, Koledo!
I told you, mother mine, I told you,
Koledo, Koledo!
I want not kings, I want not knights,
Koledo, Koledo!
'Tis Jesus Himself alone doth bind me,
Koledo, Koledo!
I've vowed to Him, true shall He find me,
Koledo, Koledo!"
J. W. W.
CXXXIII
A HORSE'S COMPLAINT
A horse left his knight on Kossovo,
On a dreadsome place on Kossovo.
Finding his steed, the knight put question:
"O horse of mine, my greatest treasure,
Why hast thou left me here so lonely,
In this deadsome place on Kossovo?
What have I done thus to displease thee?
Say, horse of mine, why didst thou leave me?
Did press my saddle hard upon thee?
Thy jewelled bridle, was it heavy?
Or have I ridden thee too far?"
To his knight the horse made answer:
"Thy saddle pressed not hard upon me,
Thy jewelled bridle was not heavy,
Nor hast thou ridden me too far.
But this it is that doth displease me:
So oft thou tarriest at the tavern,
While I am tethered at the door.
Three maidens fair are dwelling there,
Whose beauty makes thee all forgetful,
While I am out here cold and fretful;
Then angrily I paw the earth,
And eat the grass down to its root,
And drink the water dry as stone,
While thou dost leave me here alone."
J. W. W.
CXXXIV
A DANCE AT VIDIN
One day at Vidin they did dance the Kolo:
"Oh, let me, mother, go and see!"
"There is thy brother, go with him!"
"My brother! he can stay at home,
I do not want to go with him."
One day at Vidin they did dance the Kolo:
"Oh! let me, mother, go and see!"
"There is thy father, go with him!"
"Oh, let my father stay at home,
I do not want to go with him."
One day at Vidin they did dance the Kolo:
"Oh! let me, mother, go and see!"
"There is thy darling, go with him!"
"Oh, come, my sweetheart, come with me!
I'll dance the Kolo there with thee!"
J. W. W.
CXXXV
THE PRICE
How many towns from here to the coast?
Seventy-seven sunlit towns,
And villages green a thousand!
And all of these I'd give for the street
Where I my sweetheart first did meet,
And e'en the street I'd give as the price
To meet him again--aye, but for a trice!
J. W. W.
CXXXVI
PREFERENCES
Three maids were talking on a night,
Upon a silvery moonlight night.
They walked and talked of many things,
They asked what each preferred to have.
Two did listen to the eldest:
"A castle white is what I'd like."
Then two did hear the second say:
"'Tis velvet blue with gold I like."
Then two listened to the youngest:
"A sweetheart true I would prefer.
Should the castle all be ruined,
My darling would rebuild it up;
The velvet would with time wear out,
My darling he could buy me more--
A sweetheart true is richer store!"
J. W. W.
CXXXVII
A BRIDE'S DEVOTION
A Bride most fair fed a swan and a lion,
A swan and a lion and a falcon grey.
To her came merchants from far away:
"Sell us, sweet maid, your swan and your lion,
This swan and this lion and falcon grey!"
"Ye men from afar, go away, go away,
My godfather cometh to see me wed,
And this lion I tend till the time be sped;
And for my true friend who best man shall be,
This white swan I keep, and for none but he!
But this falcon grey ye covet so much,
'Tis my true love's own; none shall it touch."
J. W. W.
CXXXVIII
FIDELITY
A youth to God did pray,
About his sweetheart dear,
That he the gem might be
Which trembled in her ear.
He wished to be the beads
Reposing on her breast,
That he might hear her say
That she loved him best.
The prayer he prayed was heard
A pearl beside the shore,
His darling picked him up,
And on her necklet bore.
He listened and he heard
How true her loving heart:
She told the other maids
She ne'er from him would part.
J. W. W.
CXXXIX
A SISTER'S LAMENT
Sister was I of kingly brothers three,
But now my kings are gone from me,
Woe, woe, woe!
Better kingdoms they are asking,
Better work than this world's tasking,
And God will grant it, where they go,
Better service He'll bestow,
But for me, alas! Oh! woe!
So kingly brothers ne'er were known,
Now my heart breaketh here alone.
This world for me too dark is now,
And I took dark for it, I trow!
Woe, woe, woe!
J. W. W.
CXL
THE PRAYER OF KARAGEORGE'S LADY[38]
Prayed of God the Karageorge's Lady!
"Give me, God, to bear a maiden lovely,
Patternized by Carapi['c]a Vasa,
Grant us, O God, to choose name of beauty,
Name of beauty, precious gold of mother.
When shall come the baby, christen'd Goldie,
Swaddling clothes her mother will then make her,
Flowing clothes of linen for her infant,
All of silk and cloth of gold so beauteous,
As she's Goldie let gold bless her slumber.
When she's come to her little cradle,
Then her mother will make little cradle,
Little cradle of gold will she make her,
As she's Goldie, let cradle be golden.
When Goldie is grown up to be spinner,
Spinning-wheel her mother then will make her,
Of gold will she make her golden spindle,
As she's Goldie let her wheel be golden.
When Goldie knows how to embroider,
Golden frame her mother will then make her,
Of gold will she make her spinning trinket,
As she's Goldie, may her work be golden."[39]
B. S. S.
CXLI
THOU ART EVER, EVER MINE[40]
O my girl, O my soul,
What does mother say to you?
Will she marry you to me?
Her son-in-law can I be?
She might give you, she might not,
Thou art ever, ever mine!
B. S. S.
CXLII
SEA MERCHANT[41]
Listen, my girl, listen, my beauty!
Thy eyes are corals in the sea,
I am a merchant on the sea
Buying the riches of the sea.
Listen, my girl, listen, my beauty!
Thy teeth are tiniest pearls,
I am a merchant on the sea
Buying tiniest pearls of the sea.
Listen, my girl, listen, my beauty!
Thy hands are whiter than the wool,
I am a merchant on the sea
Trading in wool o'er the sea.
B. S. S.
CXLIII
ANGELA AS WATCHMAN[42]
Falcon is winging high,
But the fortress gates are higher;
And Angela is watching there
Aureoled in sunshine,
Belted with the moonbeams,
And flowering with the stars.
B. S. S.
CXLIV
A LAD AND HIS BETROTHED[43]
Little lad is wandering
Through a wooded copse,
Strutting with a green bough
Walking down the slopes.
Looking on a courtyard
Sees young Jana sweeping:
"O thou pearl, my sweet one,
Whence my ring in keeping?"
Thus she answered proudly:
"May thy brother know, perchance,
And should it bring God's blessing
He'll join our wedding dance."
B. S. S.
CXLV
DIREFUL SICKNESS[44]
What shall I do, what shall I do?
My nights are sleepless,
My heart is so restless--
Ah, sorrow, anew,
I'll die,
My love, for you.
B. S. S.
CXLVI
ALL AS IT SHOULD BE[45]
When the sun sets at even,
My love is just coming to me
And when the moon has passed Heaven
My lover is going from me.
So the paths are all darken'd with shadow,
Just as it should be, should be
In shadow that no one can see.
B. S. S.
CXLVII
BEAUTY PREENS HERSELF[46]
For whom powders face so lovely, Beauty?
For whom has she dropped her hair on shoulder,
For whom is she wearing charms in bosom?
Is it for Valach, or for a Magyar?
It is not for Valach nor for Magyar,
It is for this Stojan, mighty reaper,
Who in Kolo always takes the leadship,
When he's playing, every heart is touched.
When he's dancing, dances like a puppet.
B. S. S.
CXLVIII
HARVEST SONG[47]
Hurry, hurry, robust harvesters,
At field's end there's water and a maiden,
Cooling water, and a maiden youthful,
Drink ye water, and embrace your maiden.
B. S. S.
CXLIX
LONG NIGHT[48]
These are long nights, these are long nights,
For him who does not kiss black eyes,
He it is who cannot slumber,
For his heart is pierced with sorrow.
B. S. S.
CL
EYEBROW LURE[49]
Oh, my girl, my sweetest flower,
Curl not ends of eyebrow bower,
Do not grieve your youthful laddies,
As your way doth torment me:
Leading horse, I wander barefoot--
Carrying boots, I wander barefoot--
Bearing bread, I cannot eat it--
Treading water, cannot drink it.
B. S. S.
CLI
GIRLHOOD[50]
Girlhood was my golden tsardom!
Tsar was I while girlhood lasted;
Ah, if I could turn me backward,
Well I know how I'd live girlhood.
B. S. S.
CLII
YOUTH WITH YOUTH[51]
On the river Sitnitsa
Little green fir standeth!
Who's young and stripling,
Youth with green youth sleepeth.
Ah, but see that youthful Jovo,
All alone is he,
Seeing that the youthful Mara
Joins him secretly.
B. S. S.
CLIII
COME, MY LOVER, TO ME[52]
Full and thick is shadow,
Come, my love, to meadow,
For I've a verdant garden,
Red roses for a warden;
Golden kerchief will I make thee,
Christmas gift of love from me,
To carry so splendidly
In the memory of thy darling.
B. S. S.
CLIV
SIGHS[53]
Oh my heart, I feel me sighing,
Methinks that my lover calls me to him,
But in truth my sweetheart's love hath ceased.
Cried out falcon from a fir branch lofty:
"O girl lovely! Sinfully you are speaking,
Only past night your love called you lovely,
Drinking wine unto your bounteous pleasure:
'O my girl, my soul of me most dearest,
I have made for thee a hiding,
Half my bed and half my arm,
Half a pillow, half a cover,
Half a cushion, heart of mine in bosom.'"
B. S. S.
CLV
A BOUQUET OF LITTLE ROSES[54]
O girl of my soul, my soul,
Take this bunch of rosebuds neat,
Should thy bouquet fade and fail,
Come once more, my soul, to me
I will pluck again for thee.
B. S. S.
CLVI
DREAM INTERPRETATION[55]
Darling sweetheart on his free arm sleeping,
Makes he motion to sound gong in waking:
"Awake, my dear, dearer than mine own eyes,
Last night I a strange dream was a-dreaming:
My fez swept 'way on the troubled water,
Pearls were strewing richly in my lap-robe,
And my watch in pieces four was broken."
Sweetheart waking, calmly speaking this-wise:
"Easy is it to interpret dreaming,
That your fez was swept by troubled water
Means you're to go forth to battle army;
That pearls richly scatter'd in your lap-robe
Must mean our tears, thine with mine are mingling;
That your watch in pieces four was broken
Means in truth that our hearts will be breaking
When we're forced to take leave of each other."
B. S. S.
CLVII
WITH SWEETHEART NIGHTS ARE SHORTEST[56]
Cyclone downward rumbling,
All the castle trembling.
In castle is a girl
Crying, never ceasing:
"Alas, how long nights are!
When sleeping near to papa;
On nine soft mattresses,
On nine softest cushions,
'Neath nine fine coverlets."
"Alas, how long nights are!
When sleeping near to mother;
On nine soft mattresses,
On nine softest cushions,
'Neath nine fine coverlets."
"Alas, how long nights are!
When sleeping near to brother;
On nine soft mattresses,
On nine softest cushions,
'Neath nine fine coverlets."
"Alas, how long nights are!
When sleeping near to sister;
On nine soft mattresses,
On nine softest cushions,
'Neath nine fine coverlets."
Cyclone downward rumbling,
All the castle trembling.
In castle is a girl
Crying, never ceasing:
"Alas, how short the nights are!
Sleeping with my darling,
Just on single mattress,
On a single pillow,
'Neath a single cover."
B. S. S.
CLVIII
DAWN AWAKENED LAZAR[57]
'Wakening Lazar dawn was stealing:
"Get up, Lazar; rise up, Lazar!
Horse of thine has thirst for water."
Forthwith up leaps Lazar quickly,
Grasps his horse's bridle lightly,
Leading horse, he goes to water,
But at water's edge was maiden,
With his foot he touched hers gently,
Kissed the while her black eyes sparkling,
Clasping her about the bosom.
B. S. S.
CLIX
A DEVILISH YOUNG MATRON[58]
When I lived a girl with mother,
Good advice was given me often,
That I should not drink the red wine,
That I should not wear green wreathlets,
That I shouldn't kiss a stranger.
But I poor girl deeply thinking over:
There's no red cheek without red wine sparkling,
There's no pleasure without green wreath glistening,
Neither amour without stranger wooer.
B. S. S.
CLX
GIRL IS ETERNAL POSSESSION[59]
In a garden works a maiden,
Digging furrow, water decoy,
To the garden 'luring water,
To give drink to early flowers,
Early flowers, whitest basil,
Whitest basil, gold carnation;
Where she's furrowing, there she's sleeping.
Putting head in sweetest basil,
Hands are lying in carnations,
Feet are plac'd in shallow hollow,
Covered with a fragile kerchief;
Beat upon her dew-drops slender,
Like a rain-soaked watermelon.
Now there comes a callow youth,
Callow youth and not yet married,
Grasping two posts, leaps the railing,
Springing lightly into garden,
Then commences soliloquizing:
"Should I pluck a bunch of flowers?
Should I kiss a sleeping maiden?
Bunch of flowers lasts till mid-day,
But a maiden lasts forever."
B. S. S.
CLXI
JOVO AND MARIA[60]
Breeze fans up o'er roses 'long the meadow,
To the rich white tent of Jovo, youthful,
Where there's Jovo with Maria sitting:
Jovo writing and Maria sewing;
Ink runs short for Jovo where he's writing,
And Maria golden thread is losing,
Then to Maria, Jovo thus is speaking:
"Oh, my Maria, mine own cherish'd lov'd one!
Is my soul to thee a dear possession?
For a pillow is my right hand doughty?"
Mara to him gently whispering slowly:
"Believe me, Jovo, darling of my heart-throb,
Dearer to me is thy soul much dearer,
Than are altogether four of brothers;
Softer to me thy own right hand doughty,
Than four softest pillows of my choosing."
B. S. S.
CLXII
ROSE TREE[61]
Planted rose-tree midst of Novi-Sad town,
O my rose-bud, O my sorrow rose tree,
Cannot pick you, neither give you sweetheart:
For my sweetie vents her anger on me,
Gliding past my courtyard stealthy,
Like the slave who passes Turkish graveyard.
B. S. S.
CLXIII
DARLING'S WRATH[62]
O my darling, be not wrathful;
Should I, myself, show my hot displeasure,
All of Bosnia never could appease us,
Not all Bosnia nor the Hercegovina.
B. S. S.
CLXIV
LAD PIERCED WITH ARROW[63]
Alas hero I'm with arrow pierced,
O my Yetsa, thy white face is guilty,
Thy black eye-balls are the piercing arrows,
Thy white arms are now a very torment.
Come, my love bird, to my white court homing,
Come to heal my heart's own sore displeasure,
To bind up my wounds with thy throat's whiteness,
To salve suffering with thy honey kisses.
B. S. S.
CLXV
NOUGHT BUT KISSES[64]
Up and down went youth in mountain,
In a garden, girl round fountain;
On her threw he hawthorn red,--
Lightly answering, blackthorn sped,--
Think you they intend to kill?
Nought but kisses that they will.
B. S. S.
CLXVI
UNITED[65]
Little girl, the small black-eyed,
Hero, wondering stupefied:
'Had we means of barter!
To lead us near together!
I my life long would not quit her,
None could make our friendship wither.'
B. S. S.
CLXVII
GIRL PLEADS WITH JEWELLER[66]
Oh, my jeweller, for your trade's sake, listen!
Make me hero, all of gold my hero,
I will spoil him, as his mother dares not,
I will kiss him until dawns the twilight,
Till day breaks ever will caress him.
B. S. S.
CLXVIII
WIFE DEARER THAN SISTER[67]
Lo! behold behind the forest
Someone loudly screams--
"'Tis a voice," says youthful hero,
"Girlish-like it seems."
When behold! he looked and spied her,
Tiny girl, tree-bound they'd tied her,
With fine silken seams.
Hear! she prays of youthful hero, dazzled by his might:
"Come to me, thou youthful hero, O most beauteous, wonderknight.
Come to free me, youthful hero, and I'll be thy sister true."
Thus she spake, but laughing he, "O, there's one at home like you."
"Come to free me then, my brother; sister-in-law I'll be no other."
('But at home she sits by mother.')
"Then I'll be thy golden bride.
Take me to thy meadows wide,
Take me to thy castles white,
Take me, take me from this plight."
So she spake to gallant lover,
Hovering near and just above her,
Clasps her in his arms to love her--
Such a gallant knight!
B. S. S.
CLXIX
GREATEST SORROW[68]
All young heroes here save mine,
All young gallant heroes brave.
O! that I were sure he'd tarry,
Lingering in some sickness grave,
Rather than the wish to marry
Sends him courting another maid.
O! may he be too ill to travel,
May him dread illness cause to pine,
Rather than to court another,
Never, never to be mine.
B. S. S.
CLXX
YOUTH AND GIRL[69]
O maiden, thou gentlest rose
When thou wert growing what didst thou behold?
Hast thou observed a pine-tree growing
Or the slender, proud fir-tree blowing,
Or did'st gaze at my youngest brother?--
O glad, young hero, brilliant Sun!
Never at the pine-tree blowing
Have I look'd in wonder gazing
Neither at the slender fir-tree,
Nor thy youngest brother, free,
Rather have I grown to suit thee,
Tender knight, to suit but thee.
B. S. S.
NOTES
[Footnote 1: This song as also those signed "S. J. B." has been
transversified and published by (Sir) John Bowring, "Servian Popular
Poetry," London, 1827.]