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Home  »  library  »  poem  »  The Princess

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

The Princess

By Björnstjerne Björnson (1832–1910)

Translation of Nathan Haskell Dole

THE PRINCESS sat lone in her maiden bower,

The lad blew his horn at the foot of the tower.

“Why playest thou alway? Be silent, I pray,

It fetters my thoughts that would flee far away,

As the sun goes down.”

In her maiden bower sat the Princess forlorn,

The lad had ceased to play on his horn.

“Oh, why art thou silent? I beg thee to play!

It gives wings to my thoughts that would flee far away,

As the sun goes down.”

In her maiden bower sat the Princess forlorn,

Once more with delight played the lad on his horn.

She wept as the shadows grew long, and she sighed:

“Oh, tell me, my God, what my heart doth betide,

Now the sun has gone down.”