BOOK THE FIFTH.
163
Humble we were, but happy. Honest toil
Procur'd our homely sustenance. Our herds
Duly at morn and evening to my hand
Gave their full stores. The vineyard he had rear'd
Purpled its clusters in the southern sun; 110
And plenteous produce of my father's toil
The yellow harvest billowed o'er the plain.
We were content and envied not the great;
We fear'd them not, for we were innocent.
How chearful seated round the blazing hearth 115
When all the labour of the day was done,
We past the ev'ning hours! for they would sing
Or chearful roundelay, or ditty sad
Of maid forsaken and the willow weed,
Or of the doughty Douzeperes of France, 120
Some warlike fit, the while my spinning wheel
Humm'd not unpleasing round!"
"Thus long we lived,
And happy. To a neighbouring youth my hand
In holy wedlock soon to be combin'd
Procur'd our homely sustenance. Our herds
Duly at morn and evening to my hand
Gave their full stores. The vineyard he had rear'd
Purpled its clusters in the southern sun; 110
And plenteous produce of my father's toil
The yellow harvest billowed o'er the plain.
We were content and envied not the great;
We fear'd them not, for we were innocent.
How chearful seated round the blazing hearth 115
When all the labour of the day was done,
We past the ev'ning hours! for they would sing
Or chearful roundelay, or ditty sad
Of maid forsaken and the willow weed,
Or of the doughty Douzeperes of France, 120
Some warlike fit, the while my spinning wheel
Humm'd not unpleasing round!"
"Thus long we lived,
And happy. To a neighbouring youth my hand
In holy wedlock soon to be combin'd
"Was
