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C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

Song of Lament

By Sándor Petőfi (1823–1849)

Translation of Sir John Bowring

OH, with what fascinating bursts and swells

Breaks out the music of the village bells,

Upon the ear of the roused peasant falling,

And to the church devotions gently calling!

What sweet remembrances that music brings

Of early thoughts and half-forgotten things:

Things half forgotten, yet on these past dreams

Distinct, as living life, one figure beams

In brightness and in youthful beauty—she

Sleeps her long sleep beneath the willow-tree;

There I my never-wearied vigils keep,

And there I weep, and cannot cease to weep.