Though 'neath the world the sun is fallen now,
O dreary road, when will thy leagues be done?
THE MAIDENS
O tremblest thou, grey road, or do my feet
Tremble with joy, thy flinty face to meet?
Because my love's eyes soon mine eyes shall greet?
No heart thou hast to keep us long alone.
THE YOUTHS
O wilt thou ne'er depart, thou heavy night?
When will thy slaying bring on the morning bright,