Pastoral

VALLARELÅT

Hark to the cowbells, hark how the singing
 Strays down the meadow at evening fall!
Cows low their answer and quicken the swinging
 Stride of their pace at the milkmaid's call.

O'er heath and moorland the shrill notes flow:
 “Co', Lily—co', Lily—co', Lily, co'!”
Echoes, awakening, northward go,
Cliffs all replying
Softly the dying
 “Co', Lily—co', Lily—co'!”

Falls now, now rises the cowbell's vibration,
 Till all is hushed in the valley beneath,
Still are the woods, half-asleep in their station.
Only the wandering
Call goes meandering
 Near and afar over moorland and heath.

Night comes apace with the sun's fading glimmer,
 See, on the lake, how the vapor trails!
Shades grow more solid, and longer, and dimmer,
 Quickly the dark o'er the forest prevails.

Spruces and pine-trees now sleep in the shadow,
 Dull grows the rush of the cataract's play,
Faintly the voices recede from the meadow,
 Wander, and scatter, and die far away.
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Author of original: 
Gustaf Fröding
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