Re-echo through your halls. And ore you waiting
If I will return, like the swallows to their nests,
To dream once more beneath your aged roof
Those wondrous dreams . . . to list and hear again
Her words of blessing, who has passed away,
Words that still linger within your very walls
To blend at night, when the strangers soundly sleep,
With the sweet and dreamy whispering of the trees.”
Thus spoke the wanderer . . . and a gleaming tear
Fell to the dust of that winding, endless road
That stretched so far away . . To where? . . To where . .?
ROMANCE
Angrily the King addressed her:
“All my glory without blemish,
My heroic heart and fervor
I laid at your feet to trample;
I bent low my back that never
Bent before in dumb submission,
Bent before you and your beauty,
But in vain; And now, what happened?
Your bright eyes, made to be worshipped,
Eyes that barely seemed to see me
When in awe I gazed upon them,
Whither have your glances wandered?
Full of tears and deep compassion,
Full of love they shine, like starlight,
Falling on a man unhonored,
Without name or wealth or power,
On him all your love was showered
Like alms given to the paupers.”
To the King she thus gave answer:
“Master, ’tis the truth you’ve spoken.
Yes, I gave my love completely
To this man who is unhonored.
Man without a name or power.
You may laugh or storm in anger
Just as long my heart rejoices.
In mocked humbleness, oh Master,
74
