ht.
Oft he would lead her to the flowery lawn,
And in the rosy bowers bedeck her hair,
And watch the image of his soul repose
In all her beauty 'neath a rosy crown;
Amid the fragrance of the blooming eve,
And the soft cadence from the sylvan towers,
Beheld the heaving of her gentle breast,
Moved by the passing of a peaceful breath,
Until of love his soul would overflow;
Then he would bend and lay his lips to hers,
And pour a shower of mellow kisses there.
Then he loved well to hear the harp reply--
The silvery harp--unto her nimble touch,
And shower its floods of melody away,
To mingle with the songs of nature by;
For it knew well the softness of her touch,
And gladly gave its music in return.
But more he loved than music of the harp,
Or songs of many valleys in the Spring,
When every fragment of the air is full
Of song and all the arts of melody,
To hear the sweetness of her full-tuned voice,
Raised to the measure of some favored song;
A life-like presence lending to the theme,
Until the soul is fervent in return
Of they who listen to its thrilling power.
Then they would wander to the village oft,
Now by the path along the bridge, and then
Across the water by the ferry-boat;
For the coy village is across the stream,
Near on a line from where the castle stands,
And nigh it well, that when the breeze accords,
Or calm prevails, the sounds come floating o'er
Of mirthful lads in gambol on the green,
Or the part song of buxom damsel raised,
Who lightly busies at her noonday task;
Anon the chime of the church clock, which tells
Another hour departed of the year.
And all these sounds familiar to them come,
And all the village holds them in respect,
Which as they near the rustic boys will doff
Their brown worn caps in manner rustic like,
While dame and damsel pay a reverence meet
Unto the lady they have learnt to love;
For she is loved by all the people well,
And held in honor as a God-sent friend,--
Kind-hearted to the poor, and to the sick
A double help and kindly comforter.
In manner thus the seasons quickly pass,
One after one,--the flowery Summer and
The golden Autumn, with her bounty hand;
Then, in the background, Winter, and again,
When Spring, the early Summer; it was then,
Her full time having come, the lady went
Unto her chamber, and brought forth a child.
And it was robed, and brought, and put into
The father's hand, and he was very glad
With the full joy which fills a father's heart,