Ah, jö́j, 's ringassd-el e' nagy kínokat.
Szemere.
Thou smilest on me like an evening ray,
Or like the lovely Eos. When thou smilest,
All fate's dark enmity thou reconcilest,
And grief and sighing sadness glide away.
My house was whelmed in desolate decay,
Midst mists, and storms, and torrents. Art thou nigh me?
For time brings gloomy thoughts as time flits by me,
And my heart is a field of battle-fray.
Come, cradle all my sorrows into rest!
And, like Endymion, in his rosy garden
Bless me with dreams, and be mine angel warden,
As Cynthia his; and as that waking boy
Found himself breathing into Dian's breast,
So be thou mine—mine own sweet bride and joy!