And breezes mild of May,
But treasured hopes and golden hours
Are lost to me for aye!"


The two Norwegians sat plunged in melancholy thought; but especially
Sintram's eyes began to brighten with a milder expression, his cheeks
glowed, every feature softened, till those who looked at him could
have fancied they saw a glorified spirit. The good Rolf, who had
stood listening to the song, rejoiced thereat from his heart, and
devoutly raised his hands in pious gratitude to heaven. But
Gabrielle's astonishment suffered her not to take her eyes from
Sintram. At last she said to him, "I should much like to know what
has so struck you in that little song. It is merely a simple lay of
the spring, full of the images which that sweet season never fails to
call up in the minds of my countrymen."

"But is your home really so lovely, so wondrously rich in song?"
cried the enraptured Sintram. "Then I am no longer surprised at your
heavenly beauty, at the power which you exercise over my hard,
wayward heart! For a paradise of song must surely send such angelic
messengers through the ruder parts of the world." And so saying, he
fell on his knees before the lady in an attitude of deep humility.
Folko looked on all the while with an approving smile, whilst
Gabrielle, in much embarrassment, seemed hardly to know how to treat
the half-wild, half-tamed young stranger. After some hesitation,
however, she held out her fair hand to him, and said as she gently
raised him: "Surely one who listens with such delight to music must
himself know how to awaken its strains. Take my lute, and let us
hear a graceful inspired song."