"And when in seasons after,
Thy little bright-faced son
Shall lean against thy knee and ask
What deeds his sire hath done,—
Press deeper down thy mother-smile
His glossy curls among,
View deep his pretty childish eyes,
And whisper,—There is none denies,
While Luti speaks of wrong."
The river floweth on.
XX.
Nuleeni looked in wonder,
Yet softly answered she—
"By loves that last when lights are past,
I vowed that vow to thee:
But why glads it thee that a bride-day be
By a word of woe defiled?
That a word of wrong take the cradle-song
From the ear of a sinless child?"
"Why?" Luti said, and her laugh was dread,
And her eyes dilated wild—
"That the fair new love may her bridegroom prove,
And the father shame the child!"
The river floweth on.
XXI.
"Thou flowest still, O river,
Thou flowest 'neath the moon;
Thy lily hath not changed a leaf,[5]
Thy charmèd lute a tune:
He mixed his voice with thine and his
Was all I heard around;
But now, beside his chosen bride,
I hear the river's sound."
The river floweth on.
XXII.
"I gaze upon her beauty
Through the tresses that enwreathe it;
The light above thy wave, is hers—
My rest, alone beneath it:
Oh, give me back the dying look
My father gave thy water!
Give back—and let a little love
O'erwatch his weary daughter!"
The river floweth on.
XXIII.
"Give back!" she hath departed—
The word is wandering with her;
And the stricken maidens hear afar
The step and cry together.
Frail symbols? None are frail enow
For mortal joys to borrow!—
While bright doth float Nuleeni's boat,
She weepeth dark with sorrow.
The river floweth on.