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_ 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! _
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