He laughed with content, went to the spinet and opened it. Then he took up one of the pieces of music:
“Look what I have found,” he said. “This was sung by the one who put the spinet here. Look, here is her name: she herself wrote both the words and the music.... See how pale the writing is ... and how distinct.”
Fru Adelheid stood with the old, yellow sheet in her hand. She hummed the tune and struck the keys.
Then she sat down to the spinet and sang:
Day is passing, dearest maiden:
Ere thou knowest, comes the night;
Warning winds, with fragrance laden,
Bring cool air and colder light.
We must part: time hastens so!
Day is passing, dew is falling.