The russet pear-tree stands there all alone; How bright the growth of fruit upon it shown! The King`s affairs no stinting hands require, And days prolonged still mock our fond desire. But time has brought the tenth month of the year; My woman`s heart is torn with wound severe. Surely my warrior lord might now appear! The russet pear-tree stands there all alone; How dense the leafy shade all o`er it thrown! The King`s affairs require no slackening hand, And our sad hearts their feelings can`t command. The plants and trees in beauty shine; `tis spring. From off my heart its gloom I fain would fling. This season well my warrior home may bring! I climbed that northern hill, and medlars sought; The spring nigh o`er, to ripeness they were brought. "The King`s affairs cannot be slackly done";-- `Tis thus our parents mourn their absent son. But now his sandal car must broken be; I seem his powerful steeds worn out to see. Relief has gone! He can`t be far from me! Alas! they can`t have marched; they don`t arrive! More hard it grows with my distress to strive. The time is passed, and still he is not here! My sorrows multiply; great is my fear. But lo! by reeds and shell I have divined, That he is near, they both assure my mind;-- Soon at my side my warrior I shall find!SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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