Page:Mistral - Mirèio. A Provençal poem.djvu/31

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So saying, they drew the farm-house door a-nigh,
And, in the dewy twilight, saw thereby
The maid herself. Distaff in hand she stood,
Watching her silk-worms at their leafy food.
Then master Ambroi let his osiers fall,
And sang out cheerily, "Good-even, all!"

"Father, the same to you!" the damsel said.
"I had come out my distaff-point to thread,
It grows so dark. Whence come you now, I pray?
From Valabrègo?"⁶ Ambroi answered, "Yea.
I said, when the fast-coming dark I saw,
'We 'll sleep at Lotus Farm, upon the straw.'"

Whereat, with no more words, father and son
Hard by upon a roller sat them down,
And fell to their own work right busily.
A half-made cradle chanced the same to be.
Fast through the nimble fingers of the two
The supple osier bent and crossed and flew.

Certes, our Vincen was a comely lad.
A bright face and a manly form he had,
Albeit that summer he was bare sixteen.
Swart were his cheeks; bat the dark soil, I ween,
Bears the fine wheat, and black grapes make the wine
That sets our feet a-dance, our eyes a-shine.