Orval, or The Fool of Time | ||
XXV.A MESSAGE.
Sweet sister of my loved, unloving one,Kiss thy wild brother, kiss him tenderly!
Ask him what is it, witless, I have done
That he should look so coldly upon me?
Ah, well . . . I know he recks not! Let it be.
Yet say . . . “There's many a woodland nodding yet
For who needs wood when winter nights be cold.”
Say . . . “Love to give finds ever love to get.
There lack not goldsmiths where there lacks not gold.
The wood will claim the woodman by-and-by;
The gold (be sure!) the goldsmith cannot miss;
428
Well, child, but only tell him, tell him this!
Sweet sister, tell him this!
Orval, or The Fool of Time | ||