The lark said: “Lot the winter has gone by;
Buds will be bursting; I shall greet the spring;
The snow has vanished, and bright days are nigh;
I soar into the blue, my song to sing.”
But ere he plumed his wings for happy flight,
Deep snow came down, and veiled the fields in white.
The floweret said: “In this warm, sheltered nook,
My blossom I will spread before the sun,
And he will smile on me with gladsome look.”
But the dear floweret, ere the day was done,
Shrivelled before the north wind’s frosty breath,
Trembled, and closed her bright-blue eyes in death.
The maiden said: “My true love is away;
But soon his ship will come across the foam,
And life will then be lovely, bright, and gay,
And blessed days will gladden our fair home.”
But as she, dreamt her happy dreams and smiled,
His barque went down at midnight dark and wild.