AN OLD BALLAD
“Mila,[[62]] farewell,
For I must go!
How you shall grieve
Full well I know.”
“My lover, nay,
Be sure my heart
Will not be sad
When you depart!
“I mount one hill:
Another’s set
For you to climb—
Thus I forget.”
“When behind my love
Closed the new gate,
I could not work,
Nor sleep, nor wait.
“When my soldier passed
The willows thick
With tears my eyes
Were blinded quick.”
(As he neared the hill
She fainting lay—
Cold water laved
Her brow that day.
The Iron Gate
As he passed by
In a coffin new
His love did lie.)
Four steeds a-gallop—
“Young soldier, haste!
The deathbell tolls
For your love so chaste.”
“Nay, let it ring—
And bury her deep;
For she was not sorry;
She would not weep.”
The soldier young
Has her threshold gained:
Ah, heavy the tears
His eyes down rained!
“O little white feet
So dear to me,
How have they bound ye
Thus straitly!
“In Ukraina
When I went to the war,
They walked with me
So very far.
“Your dear white hands
Tight-clasped remain.
They rested in mine
When I marched to Ukraine.
“O you dear thin lips
So closely sealed.
How you talked to me,
And love revealed.
“O my dear red cheeks
How pale they lie.
They bloomed like the rose
When to war went I.
“Those dear black eyes
That darkened be,
When I went to Ukraine
How they looked at me!”