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 hill-side 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 coos and coos 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 bear. And 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,
may be brides at noon."

We

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,

66

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,
Like rising of the haloed moon
Lightened her glimmering hair,
While her face lightened like the sun
Whose dawn is rosy white.
Thus crowned with maiden majesty
She peered into the night,
Looked up the hill and down the hill,
To left hand and to right,
Flashing like fire-flies to and fro.

Waiting thus in weariness.

She marked the nightingale Telling, if any one would heed, Its old complaining tale.

Then lifted she her voice and sang,

Answering the bird :

Then lifted she her voice and sang,
Such notes were never heard
From any bird when Spring's in blow.
The king of all that country,
Coursing far, coursing near,
Curbed his amber-bitted steed
Coursed amain to hear;

All his princes in his train,

Squire, and knight, and peer,
With his crown upon his head,
His sceptre in his hand,
Down he fell at Margaret's knees
Lord king of all that land,
To her highness bending low.

Every beast and bird and fish,
Came mustering to the sound,
Every man and every maid

From miles of country round :
Meggan on her herdsman's arm,
With her shepherd, May,

Flocks and herds trooped at their heels Along the hill-side way;

No foot too feeble for the ascent,

Not any head too grey ;

Some were swift, and none were slow.

So Margaret sang her sisters home

In their marriage mirth; Sang free birds out of the sky,

Beasts along the earth, Sang up fishes of the deep—

All breathing things that move Sang from far and sang from near

To her lovely love;

Sang together friend and foe;

Sang a golden-bearded king
Straightway to her feet,
Sang him silent where he knelt
In eager anguish sweet.

But when the clear voice died away,
When longest echoes died,
He stood up like a royal man

And claimed her for his bride.
So three maids were wooed and won

In a brief May-tide,

Long ago and long ago.

CHRISTINA ROSSETTI.

堂

Love from the North

I HAD a love in soft south land,
Beloved through April far in May ;
He waited on my lightest breath,
And never dared to say me nay.

He saddened if my cheer was sad,
But gay he grew if I was gay;
We never differed on a hair,

My yes his yes, my nay his nay.

The wedding hour was come, the aisles

Were flushed with sun and flowers that day;

I pacing balanced in my thoughts :

"It's quite too late to think of nay.”