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Updated: May 7, 2025
"But every high and glorious aim, And the pure flame That deep abiding in my heart Can ne'er depart, Too lofty for my falt'ring tongue, Must die with me, unknown, unsung." "Wherefore do you sing that song, and at this moment?" said Hildegardis, striving to appear scornful and proud, though a deep and secret sadness was plainly enough seen to overshadow her countenance.
Where shading elms along the margin grew, And freshened from the wave the zephyr flew; And haply though my harsh note falt'ring still, But mocked all tune, and marr'd the dancer's skill; Yet would the village praise my wondrous power, And dance forgetful of the noontide hour.
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