Part 16 (1/2)

”We never heard her speak in haste: Her tones were sweet, And modulated just so much As it was meet: Her heart sat silent through the noise And concourse of the street.

There was no hurry in her hands, No hurry in her feet; There was no bliss drew nigh to her, That she might run to greet.

”You should have wept her yesterday, Wasting upon her bed: But wherefore should you weep to-day That she is dead?

Lo, we who love weep not to-day, But crown her royal head.

Let be these poppies that we strew, Your roses are too red: Let be these poppies, not for you Cut down and spread.”

[Ill.u.s.tration: _You should have wept her yesterday_]

MAIDEN-SONG.

Long ago and long ago, And long ago still, There dwelt three merry maidens Upon a distant hill.

One was tall Meggan, And one was dainty May, But one was fair Margaret, More fair than I can say, Long ago and long ago.

When Meggan plucked the th.o.r.n.y rose, And when May pulled the brier, Half the birds would swoop to see, Half the beasts draw nigher; Half the fishes of the streams Would dart up to admire: But when Margaret plucked a flag-flower, Or poppy hot aflame, All the beasts and all the birds And all the fishes came To her hand more soft than snow.

Strawberry leaves and May-dew In brisk morning air, Strawberry leaves and May-dew Make maidens fair.

”I go for strawberry-leaves,”

Meggan said one day: ”Fair Margaret can bide at home, But you come with me, May; Up the hill and down the hill, Along the winding way, You and I are used to go.”

So these two fair sisters Went with innocent will Up the hill and down again, And round the homestead hill: While the fairest sat at home, Margaret like a queen, Like a blush-rose, like the moon In her heavenly sheen, Fragrant-breathed as milky cow Or field of blossoming bean, Graceful as an ivy bough Born to cling and lean; Thus she sat to sing and sew.

When she raised her l.u.s.trous eyes A beast peeped at the door; When she downward cast her eyes A fish gasped on the floor; When she turned away her eyes A bird perched on the sill, Warbling out its heart of love, Warbling, warbling still, With pathetic pleadings low.

Light-foot May with Meggan Sought the choicest spot, Clothed with thyme-alternate gra.s.s: Then, while day waxed hot, Sat at ease to play and rest, A gracious rest and play; The loveliest maidens near or far, When Margaret was away, Who sat at home to sing and sew.

Sun-glow flushed their comely cheeks, Wind-play tossed their hair, Creeping things among the gra.s.s Stroked them here and there; Meggan piped a merry note, A fitful, wayward lay, While shrill as bird on topmost twig Piped merry May; Honey-smooth the double flow.

Sped a herdsman from the vale, Mounting like a flame, All on fire to hear and see With floating locks he came.

Looked neither north nor south, Neither east nor west, But sat him down at Meggan's feet As love-bird on his nest, And wooed her with a silent awe, With trouble not expressed; She sang the tears into his eyes, The heart out of his breast: So he loved her, listening so.

She sang the heart out of his breast, The words out of his tongue; Hand and foot and pulse he paused Till her song was sung.

Then he spoke up from his place Simple words and true: ”Scanty goods have I to give, Scanty skill to woo; But I have a will to work, And a heart for you: Bid me stay or bid me go.”

Then Meggan mused within herself: ”Better be first with him, Than dwell where fairer Margaret sits, Who s.h.i.+nes my brightness dim, Forever second where she sits, However fair I be: I will be lady of his love, And he shall wors.h.i.+p me; I will be lady of his herds And stoop to his degree, At home where kids and fatlings grow.”

Sped a shepherd from the height Headlong down to look, (White lambs followed, lured by love Of their shepherd's crook): He turned neither east nor west, Neither north nor south, But knelt right down to May, for love Of her sweet-singing mouth; Forgot his flocks, his panting flocks In parching hillside drouth; Forgot himself for weal or woe.

Trilled her song and swelled her song With maiden coy caprice In a labyrinth of throbs, Pauses, cadences; Clear-noted as a dropping brook, Soft-noted like the bees, Wild-noted as the s.h.i.+vering wind Forlorn through forest trees: Love-noted like the wood-pigeon Who hides herself for love, Yet cannot keep her secret safe, But cooes and cooes thereof: Thus the notes rang loud or low.

He hung breathless on her breath; Speechless, who listened well; Could not speak or think or wish Till silence broke the spell.

Then he spoke, and spread his hands Pointing here and there: ”See my sheep and see the lambs, Twin lambs which they bare.

All myself I offer you, All my flocks and care, Your sweet song hath moved me so.”

In her fluttered heart young May Mused a dubious while: ”If he loves me as he says”-- Her lips curved with a smile: ”Where Margaret s.h.i.+nes like the sun, I s.h.i.+ne but like a moon; If sister Meggan makes her choice I can make mine as soon; At c.o.c.kcrow we were sister-maids, We may be brides at noon.”

Said Meggan, ”Yes”; May said not ”No.”

Fair Margaret stayed alone at home, Awhile she sang her song, Awhile sat silent, then she thought: ”My sisters loiter long.”