| be:
    I will be lady of his love,
      And he shall worship 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 shivering 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 shines like the sun,
      I shine but like a moon;
    If sister Meggan makes her choice
      I can make mine as soon;
    At cockcrow 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."
    That sultry noon had waned away,
      Shadows had waxen great:
    "Surely," she thought within herself,
      "My sisters loiter late."
    She rose, and peered out at the door,
      With patient heart to wait,
    And heard a distant nightingale
      Complaining of its mate;
    Then down the garden slope she walked,
      Down to the garden gate,
    Leaned on the rail and waited so.
    The slope was lightened by her eyes
      Like summer lightning fair,
    Lik |