Even though't were not thy Sunday bodice?
—Thy father cometh home, leave the door open.
These specimens will give an idea of the charm, the grace, the pathos, and the melody of these Roumanian songs, which are like the breath of wild mountain air, full of the voices of the birds and streams, the wailings of the wind, and the sad plaints of the human heart. There is scarce a page in the not very voluminous collection which is not marked with some untaught grace of thought or language, and which has not the charm and power of simple and strong emotion. However literal they may be, and the impression is very strongly conveyed of their absolute faithfulness, they also owe much to the fine grace and skill and to the melody of the verse into which they have been rendered in a foreign language, and the lovers of poetry owe a grateful debt to Carmen Sylva and Miss Alma Strettell, who had been already favorably known for her translations of Greek folksongs for the artistic quality of their translations. No richer treasury of primitive poetry has been disclosed for many years.