Page:Mistral - Mirèio. A Provençal poem.djvu/47

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Canto I.]
LOTUS FARM.
21

The crickets, chirruping amid the dew,
Paused more than once to listen. Often, too,
The bird of evening, the sweet nightingale,
Kept silence; thrilling so at Vincen's tale,
As still she harked her leafy perch upon,
She might have kept awake until the dawn.

"Oh, mother!" cried Mirèio, "surely never,
Was weaver-lad so marvellously clever!
I love to sleep, dear, on a winter night;
But now I cannot,—it is all too light.
Ah, just one story more before we go,
For I could pass a lifetime listening so!"