Beside the old grey tower
A sentry-box is set;
A red-accoutred fellow
Walks up and down there yet.
He’s playing with his musket,
While gleameth the sun o’erhead;
He first presents and shoulders—
I would that he’d shoot me dead!
4.
With tears through the forest I wander,
The throstle’s sitting on high;
She, springing, sings softly yonder:
O wherefore dost thou sigh?
“Sweet bird, thy sister the swallow
“Can tell thee the cause of my gloom;
“She dwells in a nest all hollow,
“Beside my sweetheart’s room.”
5.
The night is damp and stormy,
No star is in the sky;
In the wood, ’neath the rustling branches
In silence wander I.
A distant light is twinkling
From the hunter’s lonely cot;
But within, the scene is but saddening,
And the light can allure me not.
The blind old grandmother’s sitting
In her leather elbow-chair,
All-gloomily fix’d like a statue,
Not a word escapeth her there.