OLD LITHUANIAN SONG.

TRANSLATED BY JOHN BOWRING, ESQ.

Przez lasy iodfowe

Przcz lasy swierkowe.

THROUGH the pine trees' darksome woods,

Through the fir groves' solitudes,

On my piebald steed, I come,

Hurrying to her mother's home.

"Mother,

hail!"-"Thou 'rt welcome, now,

To my cottage, lone and low."

"Tell me, mother! tell me where
I may seek my cherished fair?"
"In yon chamber, dark and still,
Lies thy lovely maiden, ill,
Restless on the green-robed bed-
Hapless youth!" With gentle tread,
O'er the yard I swiftly glide,
Lingering on the threshold side.
Here I wiped my tears, and took

Her white hand, with gentlest look:

Lovely sufferer! flower of spring! Time sweet remedy shall bring."

"Call me, call me thine no more, Soon life's short remains are o'er; I within my grave shall lie,

Thou these flowing tears must dry:-
Thou wilt come and see me home,
To my solitary tomb.

Crowds of maidens shall be there,
Feeling joy, but feigning care:
One, with rosy cheeks, shall be,
Even then, beloved by thee;
She shall bear away thy kiss,—
What a bliss! oh, what a bliss!"