From o'er the boundless sea, love,
And mountains high,
From o'er the dark, deep wood, love,
You'll hear me sigh.
If you are deaf to me, love,
Still on the plain
You'll see the flowers fade, love,
Seared by my pain.
Still you are deaf to me, love,
Without a tear;
I go without a word, love,
My soul to cheer.
I send you back those blooms, love,
Which once you gave;
For they are now to me, love,
Rank as the grave.
Amongst those cold, grey buds, love,
A snake doth lie,
As you have not for me, love,
A single sigh.
He finished and listened, then he heard a slight noise overhead; the window was quietly opened, and Milena's face was seen peeping between the cranny as she held the shutters ajar, for her beautiful, lustrous eyes sparkled in the darkness.
"Uros!" she whispered, "how can you be so very foolish as to come and sing under my windows! What will the people say, if they should happen to see you?"
"Who can hear me in this lonely spot? Everybody is asleep, not a mouse is stirring abroad."
"Someone or other seems always to hang about, spying all I do. For your sake, and for mine, go away, I beg you. After the fright I had upon that dreadful night, I have got to be such a coward."
"No; the truth is, after that night, you never cared for me any more."