They keep where we kiss'd:

That sheltered from rain,

And the dawn an empty pane.

 Thro' the mist, up the moorway, Fade hunters and pack; From the ridge to thy doorway Happy voices float back ... O, between the threads o' mist, love, Reach your hands from the house. Only mind that we kiss'd, love, And forget the broken vows!  

Fade hunters and pack;

Happy voices float back ...

Reach your hands from the house.

And forget the broken vows!

TWO FOLK SONGS

I. THE SOLDIER

(Roumanian)

When winter trees bestrew the path, Still to the twig a leaf or twain Will cling and weep, not Winter's wrath, But that foreknown forlorner pain— To fall when green leaves come again. 

Still to the twig a leaf or twain

But that foreknown forlorner pain—

To fall when green leaves come again.

I watch'd him sleep by the furrow— The first that fell in the fight. His grave they would dig to-morrow: The battle called them to-night. 

The first that fell in the fight.

The battle called them to-night.

 They bore him aside to the trees, there, By his undigg'd grave content To lie on his back at ease there, And hark how the battle went. 

By his undigg'd grave content

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