A whistle ’mid the distant hills
Shattered the silence grey,
She turned on me her great sad eyes,
Then lightly skimmed away.
I followed slow her flying feet
In idlest heaviness,
But oh! my heart it laught to see
Roar through the proud express.
In the after silence and the gloom
I found her there again,
And won three minutes more delight
Before the second pain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem