and the nightingales of Kovno's bowers held converse in Lithuanian, as of old, with their Prussian brothers; or, rising on independent wing, went on a visit to their playmates.
And what of men? wars had divided them! Forgotten were the old friendship and hospitality of the Lithuanians and Prussians, unless some times when all-powerful love united individual pairs. I knew two such beings. Alas! O Niemen! soon will bands, spreading death and blood shed, crowd to thy fords; the hatchet will deprive thy venerated banks of their green garlands, and the thunder of cannon will frighten the nightingales from thy orchards. All that is united by Nature's golden chain, will be torn asunder by the hatred of nations—all will be severed—but the hearts of lovers shall be united again in the song of the Waydelote.
