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60
FRANCIS KAZINCZI.
THE BELOVED.
Where the gay streamlet
Springs from the mountain,
Laughing and dancing
Came a sweet maiden
Bearing a violet,
Azure and odorous;
Smiling she dropt it
Into my bosom;
And on my forehead,
Planted warm kisses
Many and glowing—
"Breathe thro' thy harp-strings,"
Thus said the maiden;
"Breathe out the spirit
I have awakened"—
Swiftly she vanished.
Then came a dovelet,
Flutt'ring, complaining,
And a green cradle
Made of young branches,
Touching my lips
With sweet dewy honey.
