Above on the gray old tower
Stands the sentry house of the town,
And a scarlet-coated fellow
Goes pacing up and down.
He toys with his shining musket
That gleams in the sunset red,
Presenting and shouldering arms now—
I wish he would shoot me dead.
IV.
In tears through the woods I wander.
The thrush is perched on the bough:
She springs and sings up yonder—
"Oh, why so sad art thou?"
The swallows, thy sisters, are able
My dear, to answer thee.
They built clever nests in the gable,
Where sweetheart's windows be.
V.
The night is wet and stormy,
And void of stars the sky;
'Neath the rustling trees of the forest
I wander silently.
There flickers a lonely candle
In the huntsman's lodge to-night.
It shall not tempt me thither;
It burns with a sullen light.
There sits the blind old granny,
In the leathern arm-chair tall,
Like a statue, stiff, uncanny
And speaketh not at all.