Seite:Marsh Wolfe of the knoll.djvu/305

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309

SONG OF THE LAPLAND LOVER.

  Spring, then, at my song !
  Let us haste away !
  Rest thou may'st not here !
  Wolves are ever near !

  See, there flies the ern !
  Blest the winged indeed !
  See yon cloudlet speed !
  Were I on it borne,
  I had now erewhile
  Seen thy far-off smile.

  Thou, this heart that hast
  Quickly made thy prey —
  Thus the wild deer they
  To the tame make fast —
  Cataract-strong to thee
  Down thou drawest me !

  Since thy face I've known,
  Thoughts by thousands flit