X.

And the Georgian listened sadly As the other tried to speak, While the tears were dropping softly O'er the pallor of his cheek: "How she used to stand and listen, Looking o'er the fields for me, Waiting, till she saw me coming, 'Neath the shadowy old plum-tree. Never more I'll hear her laughter, As she sees me at the gate, And beneath the plum-tree's shadows, All in vain for me she'll wait."