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FOLK-SONGS OF ROUMANIA. 317
And I make the young dance, when I sing, to the tune of my ballads. For I a strange woman have loved ; She comes every night to me now, and she kisses my forehead, And asks if I love her still. She carries a knife in her girdle — her eyes have a glitter Like daggers — her hand is as white as the veil of a bride ; But her voice I have never heard — yet know I full surely, She asks if I love her still. In token thereof I have given her up my girdle, My cap with its feathers gay, My mantle with broid'ry brave, and my glitt'ring daggers. And my songs, I have given them all to her, one by one, Yet the gayest bring no smile to her face, and the saddest
Are powerless to make her sad. Then hence she goes, by the small plank over the river
The plank that sways to her step. The willows bow down their heads, and bend as she passes . . . And morning cometh, and findeth me poor and trembling, Since she hath taken my all from me, even my songs. Yet is she not content, nor will cease from asking, Whether I love her still.
/ tell the forest the wonders I see in my dreams And the forest loves to hear the tale of my dreaming,
More than the song of birds,
More than the murmur of leaves.
Almost all the songs have the refrain, as in this example, which is not, necessarily, directly associated with the subject of the song, but is suggested by some incident, circumstance, or scene brought to