Lights its pale lamp where mallows gloom,

And wild-bean and wild-mustard bloom.—

Some hunter there within the woods

Last fall encamped those ashes say

And campfire boughs.—The solitudes

Grow dreamy with the death of day.

6

 She sings.

Over the fields of millet

A young bird tries its wings;

And sweet as a woodland rillet,

Its first wild music rings—

Soul of my soul, where the meadows roll

What is the song it sings?

"Love, and a glad good-morrow,

Heart where the rapture is!

[Pg 43]

Good-morrow, good-morrow!

Adieu to sorrow!

Here is the road to bliss:

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