Page:Folk-ballads of southern Europe.djvu/287

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The Little Lamb
267

Like the milk-foam his white skin,
Black his hair as raven's wing,
Like ripe corn his bearded chin,
Brown his eyes as mulberries,
Brown and dark those eyes of his.'
To her, pitying, thou shalt say
A fair queen I wed to-day,
In a far-off land that lies
Beautiful as Paradise.
To my mother never tell
How from Heaven a bright star fell;
How the peaks were priests to me,
My guests pine and alder-tree;
How my torches were the stars,
And the birds my lute-players."