Classic Poem

Here is a hill,
And there is a hill.
And between them shines
A bright, bright star.

What I thought a star
My sweetheart was—
She for water went
And I followed her
As I would seek
A star in the sky
My fine grey horse
With me I took.

“My sweetheart dear,
Now what woke thee
In the early dawn?”

“Nay, no one woke—
When I arose
In the first starlight
I bathed my face.
With the second stars
I went to the well.”

“O my dear sweetheart,
Wilt water my horse?”

“I will not water
Thy thirsty horse,
Because I fear;
For I am not thine.
If thine I were,
From the bubbling spring
And with new pails
I would quench the thirst
Of horses twain.”

“O dear my love,
Sit now with me
On my fine grey horse!
Homeward we'll go.
Four splendid rooms
In my home have I.
The fifth one, love,
Waits but for thee.
It is lighted up
For us two alone.”

When they went through the town
None saw them go;
When they went on the steppes
The fine grey horse
Took bit in mouth,
Plunged in the stream
And its rider slew.

“O love of mine,
Lean close, lean close!
Till he bring you safe
To the farther shore.
Look now, I drown
While yet so young!
Good-bye, sweetheart,
Good-bye, good-bye!
Heed not strange men
Who'd speak with thee,
For thou art young,
Alas, so young!”