The second song selected resembles in form the ordinary folk-song, with
its single, reiterated musical strophe, and also in its simplicity, its
fresh, unaffected sincerity of mood. But it shows far more perfect
workmanship, and is of a much more refined and poetic quality. It is
plaintively sad, tenderly pathetic in every phrase, a pale, delicate
blossom of sentiment, dropped upon the grave of youth and first love. It
describes the early betrothal of a youth, full of faith, hope, and
happiness, to his playmate and child-love. On departing into strange
lands, the youth gives the maiden a ring and she gives him in exchange a
promise to become his bride on his return. After years of weary
wandering, during which his heart has been ever faithful to his early
love, he returns to find she has forgotten ring and promise and lover.
But in spite of her perfidy and the hopelessness of his attachment, his
constant thoughts cling ever to the little ring he gave and the little
playmate with her childish grace and garb. A very old story and a very
simple one, but none the less sad for that.
In addition to its intrinsic charm and artistic merit this little
composition possesses a personal interest in its subtle reference to
Chopin’s own experience. The great tone-poet knew a love other and
earlier than that destructive passion for George Sand which blasted his
life and broke his heart. But his beloved Constantia, to whom he was
betrothed before leaving Poland, at twenty years of age, to seek his
fortune in the great world, forgot her plighted vows and the little ring
he gave as their visible token, and married another; and it is the
composer’s own grieved and disappointed heart that speaks in this
tenderly beautiful song, saddened by the first of the many swiftly
gathering clouds which obscured the brightness of his sunny youth, and
in a few short years rendered the name of Chopin synonymous to his
friends with grief and suffering.