Scene IV
BLANKA. [Alone.]
He is gone! Ah, perfect stillness
Rules upon the barren strand.
Perfect stillness, grave-like stillness
Rules my heart with heavy hand.
Came he then to vanish only
Through the mist, a ray of light?
Soon he flies, a sea-gull lonely,
Far away into the night!
What is left me of this lover?
But a flower in the dark:
In my loneliness to hover
Like a petrel round his bark!
[The war trumpet of the Vikings is heard from the left.]
BLANKA. Ah! What was that! A trumpet from the wood!