From the Valley
DAY sees her smiling, smiling,
But when the sun has set,
Night bears her weeping, weeping.
The mountains are dear to me,
I was young in the mountains,
I had a golden chain and a silver necklace,
My feet were light in the dance, and my heart was lighter yet,
I love the mountains!
Every evening now my heart says to me,—
"Where are thy light feet?
"The feet that bore me so swiftly, when I throbbed in the dance!"
I make no answer.
Every evening now my heart says to me,—
"Where is thy sweet voice?
"The voice that sang my songs, my sweetest songs of gladness!"
I make no answer.
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