And the croak of the frogs in the grass. No more?
Chorus.Súmph, súmph, súmph, súmph.
Melfort.It was a sound of the pestilent fen;
The cry of a leveret lost from his lair,
Or scream of an adder-stung toad.
Or scream of an adder-stung toad.But soft.
The moon dies, and I sink each step
More deeply, and have missed my way.
The temperate candles of the town
Are lost, and I but see around me