The Blackbird's Song

MAGDALEN at Michael's gate

Tirled at the pin;

On Joseph's thorn, sang the blackbird,

"Let her in! let her in!"

"Hast thou seen the wounds?" said Michael, "Know'st thou thy sin?”

"It is evening, evening," sang the blackbird, "Let her in! let her in!"

"Yes I have seen the wounds,

And I know my sin."

"She knows it well, well, well," sang the blackbird,

"Let her in! let her in!"

"Thou bringest no offerings," said Michael, "Nought save sin."

And the blackbird sang, "She is sorry, sorry,

sorry,

Let her in! let her in!'

When he had sung himself to sleep,

And night did begin,

One came and opened Michael's gate,

And Magdalen went in.

H. KINGSLEY.

1

Maiden-Song =

LONG ago and long ago,

And long ago still,

There dwelt three merry
Upon a distant hill.
One was tall Meggan,

maidens

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 thorny 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 :

And 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 lustrous 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 grass :
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 grass
Stroked them here and there;
Meggan piped a merry note,
A fitful wayward lay,

While shrill as birds 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 shines my brightness dim,
For ever second where she sits,
However fair I 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."