But wait for me a moment, wait, ere I leap to drown!
“You know the veiling willow upon the river brim?
Wait there—and my sore heart shall come to tell the tale of him—
No end there is to Dunai; no eyes for me shall dim.
“The widow’s son was handsome, he loved me, as I thought,
And look upon the misery his laughing eyes have wrought.
Ah, Dunai! did’st thou know it then—know that he loved me not?
“O cruel is my lover, Ivan, the widow’s son,
He rode away, and whispered, ‘Farewell, my little one—
The day was bright and fair, my dear, but now the day is done.