Page:Mistral - Mirèio. A Provençal poem.djvu/53

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When suddenly, from the straight, leafy alley,
"Whither away so fast?" a voice comes gayly,
Mirèio's. Vincen darts beneath the trees,
Looks up, and soon the merry maiden sees.
Perched on a mulberry-tree, she eyed the lad
Like some gray-crested lark,³ and he was glad.

"How then, Mirèio, comes the picking on?
little by little, all will soon be done!
May I not help thee?"—"That were very meet,"
She said, and laughed upon her airy seat.
Sprang Vincen like a squirrel from the clover,
Ran nimbly up the tree, and said, moreover,—

"Now since old Master Ramoun hath but thee,
Come down, I pray, and strip the lower tree!
I'll to the top!" As busily the maiden
Wrought on, she murmured, "How the soul doth gladden
To have good company! There 's little joy
In lonely work!"—"Ay is there!" said the boy:

"For when in our old hut we sit alone,
Father and I, and only hear the Rhone
Rush headlong o'er the shingle, 'tis most drear!
Not in the pleasant season of the year,
For then upon our travels we are bound,
And trudge from farm to farm the country round.