I feel thee kneeling at my head.
I hear thy cry, “Too late! Too late!”
I love her now and she is dead.
The elms overhead are sighing,
The solemn rooks around are flying,
Caw, Caw! Caw, Caw!
SONG OF ATILLA.
(From “Lionardo, the Gondolier.”)
I’ll sing you a song about great Atilla,
A mighty man was he.