“One day he sent word: ‘Maple trees of the mountain are very beautiful. Come! let us go together to see them.’ She answered, ‘I shall be glad to do it.’ But the appointed day came and his Highness wrote: ‘To-day I must confine myself for a religious service.’ But that night it stormed, and the leaves were all gone from the trees. She waked and wrote to the Prince how sorry she was that they could not have gone the previous day.
In the Godless month it stormed– To-day I dream and dream And wonder if the storm was within my heart.
Was it a rainstorm? How my sleeves are wet! I cannot tell–but muse profoundly.
After the night storm there are no more maple leaves. O that we could have gone to the mountain yesterday!”