I yield to their desire.”
THE BRIDE’S SONG
On the threshold of her mother’s house, as she is leaving
“Mother mine, keep well!—for now we two must part.
Say not that I’ve taken all, I pray you have no fears.
Lo, upon the table I am leaving—tears!
While outside more tears shall fall from my saddened heart.”
“Manisma, go then; leave me quite alone!
Leave the flowers you used to tend—who will watch them grow?
Who will plant more in the spring in a pretty row,