Not all unworthy to our home.
But if I dared to ask this grace,
Would not God laugh out in my face?
Since gold and fame indeed are His
To give, but, ah! not this, not this!
THE RIVER MAIDENS.
When autumn winds the river grieve,
Not all unworthy to our home.
But if I dared to ask this grace,
Would not God laugh out in my face?
Since gold and fame indeed are His
To give, but, ah! not this, not this!
When autumn winds the river grieve,