And ashen was the hearth;

And the music-maker's nimble feet

Were speeding o'er the earth.

 

 

 

 

[46]

[46]

 

The Clouded SoulToC

ToC

 

O what have you done with your heart, daughter,

And what have you done to your soul, my dear?

Your heart was like a lily in June,

And your soul as a crystal clear....

O, I've thrown my heart in a well, mother,

For the lily was sick, and needed rain:

O, I've wept a cloud round my soul, mother,

 Prev. P 42/107 next