X.
And the Georgian listened sadly
As the other tried to speak,
While the tears were dropping softly
O'er the pallor of his cheek:
"How she used to stand and listen,
Looking o'er the fields for me,
Waiting, till she saw me coming,
'Neath the shadowy old plum-tree.
Never more I'll hear her laughter,
As she sees me at the gate,
And beneath the plum-tree's shadows,
All in vain for me she'll wait."