Good night, my lord, good night!"
The anger of the marsk changed to a deep melancholy. He sat on his horse motionless as a statue, listening to the two last verses of the ballad, which the girl sang with such an expression of sadness, that it pierced his heart, and he felt as if, in these tones of sorrow, the whole grief of the country had united to penetrate his bosom with reproaches, as with a sharp two-edged sword. The words were simple and touching:--
"The sturdy oaks in the greenwood stand,
When the storm comes down amain,
But the hazel and the birchen tree
Are rooted from the plain.
"What kings and courtiers do amiss
Upon the poor doth fall;
Then pity us wretched peasants, God!
Have mercy on us all!"