Serene was once his brow and visage tranquil,
Aye welcoming her with smiles, with tender glance
Bidding farewell to her. Now, as it seemed,
He was tormented by some hidden pain.
By morn, before the house, wringing his hands,
He looked upon the smoke of towns and hamlets,
Burning far off; there gazed he with wild eyes.
By night he started out of sleep, and looked
Forth from the window on the blood-red blaze.
“Husband, what ails thee?” asks with tears Aldona.