Page:Bohemian legends and other poems.djvu/190

“Oh, thou God-forsaken creature!
Wilt thou judge the saints in light?
Art thou then a better teacher
Than the church that preaches right?
Wilt thou blame that blessed martyr,
Who is now an angel bright?”

“I will wander in the sunlight,
Gather berries all the day,
And to-night I’ll dance till midnight,
Spite of everything you say.”
And the wicked girl went laughing,
Laughing gladly on her way.

Then her granddame sadly weeping,
Took her way unto the church,
Saying “Better thou went sleeping
In the graveyard ’neath the birch,
Than to scorn the holy teachings,
And to leave thy faith in lurch.”

In the wood the wicked maiden
Gathered berries ripe and red,
Then with basket heavy laden,
Hid her where the two ways led;
When she saw her granddame coming,
Hear the wicked words she said.

“Look, old crow, what comes of praying—
Nothing but an empty sack.
I while in the sunlight straying
Found of strawberries no lack;
Seems to me that in rewarding
Your old saint is over slack.”

“Wretched girl! That God would turn thee
To a stone upon the way!
Dost thou revile St. John and me—
And think to escape all pay?
An awful fate will be thine own—
That is all I have to say.”