In Spring of love and life, My Polish Rose, You faded and forgot the joy of youth; Bright butterfly, it brushed you, then left ruth Of bitter memory that stings and glows....
Pray! Pray! Let loose the bridle. Look not down! The humble horse alone has wisdom here. He knows where blackest the abysses leer And where the path in safety leads us down....
Below me half a world I see outspread; Above, blue heaven; around, peaks of snow; And yet the happy pulse of life is slow, I dream of distant places, pleasures dead. The woods of Lithuania I would tread...