VIII

4 0 00

VIII

“Now wherefore, thus, by day and night,

In rain, in tempest, and in snow,

Thus to the dreary mountaintop

Does this poor Woman go?

And why sits she beside the Thorn

When the blue day-light’s in the sky,

Or when the whirlwind’s on the hill,

Or frosty air is keen and still,

And wherefore does she cry?⁠—

Oh wherefore? wherefore? tell me why

Does she repeat that doleful cry?”