 | Gathered in the gloaming |  |
30
Under the Olives.
L'aubade.
“Now lithe and listen, Norine,
I sing this song for thee;
With pipe and tambourine,
Now lithe and listen, ma mie!”
I sing this song for thee;
With pipe and tambourine,
Now lithe and listen, ma mie!”
“Too well I know thy song,
Too trite that song for me;
Cease, cease, or else ere long
Thou'lt drive me into the sea.”
Too trite that song for me;
Cease, cease, or else ere long
Thou'lt drive me into the sea.”
“A foolish threat, Norine!
Thy flight would soon be o'er;
I'd follow fast, I ween,
And bring thee safe to shore.”
Thy flight would soon be o'er;
I'd follow fast, I ween,
And bring thee safe to shore.”
“Ah, yes; methinks I feel
Already thy rude grip;
But I'm a wriggling eel,
And through thy fingers slip.”
Already thy rude grip;
But I'm a wriggling eel,
And through thy fingers slip.”
31
“An eel! well have thy wish!
An eel is slippery and sly;
But the fisher catches the fish,
And I am the fisher, I!”
An eel is slippery and sly;
But the fisher catches the fish,
And I am the fisher, I!”
“Then I'll be a streamlet clear,
Deep hid in a dewy dell.”—
“And I'll be its bank, my dear,
And I'll be its bed as well.”
Deep hid in a dewy dell.”—
“And I'll be its bank, my dear,
And I'll be its bed as well.”
“Or a rose, a rose am I,
O'er a garden wall that creeps.”—
“And I, the honey bee,
That in the heart of it sleeps.”
O'er a garden wall that creeps.”—
“And I, the honey bee,
That in the heart of it sleeps.”
“See, see, I'm a star so fair.”—
“And I, a cloud in the skies;
I shadow thy shining hair—
I veil thy beautiful eyes.”
“And I, a cloud in the skies;
I shadow thy shining hair—
I veil thy beautiful eyes.”
“But while thou'rt aloft in the sky,
I'll tap at the convent door;
A sorrowful nun am I,
A nun for evermore.”
I'll tap at the convent door;
A sorrowful nun am I,
A nun for evermore.”
“Go in at the convent door,
But when thou'rt called to confess,
Thou'lt find I am there before,
The priest to shrive and bless.”
But when thou'rt called to confess,
Thou'lt find I am there before,
The priest to shrive and bless.”
32
“What matters, priest or churl?
For, see, my cheek grows pale;
See, I'm the poor dead girl
The sisters weep and bewail.”
For, see, my cheek grows pale;
See, I'm the poor dead girl
The sisters weep and bewail.”
“If dead, be this thy doom.
If dead, I hold thee fast.
I'm the earth, and in thy tomb
Thou'lt be mine at last—at last!”
If dead, I hold thee fast.
I'm the earth, and in thy tomb
Thou'lt be mine at last—at last!”
“Ah, now I'm touched, in sooth—
I yield—our strife is over.
There! Kiss me on the mouth—
Kiss me and be my lover!”
I yield—our strife is over.
There! Kiss me on the mouth—
Kiss me and be my lover!”
| Gathered in the gloaming | |