Page:Mistral - Mirèio. A Provençal poem.djvu/83

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"'Tis brave to laugh at this poor lad of osiers;
But mark! the future may make strange disclosures,
Poor though he be. Now hear the oracle!
God in his house once wrought a miracle;
And I can show the truth of what I say,
For, lasses, it all happened in my day.

"Once, in the wild woods of the Luberon,¹¹
A shepherd kept his flock. His days were long;
But when at last the same were well-nigh spent,
And toward the grave his iron frame was bent,
He sought the hermit of Saint Ouquèri,
To make his last confession piously.

"Alone, in the Vaumasco¹² valley lost,
His foot had never sacred threshold crost,
Since be partook his first communion.
Even his prayers were from his memory gone;
But now he rose and left his cottage lowly,
And came and bowed before the hermit holy.

"'With what sin chargest thou thyself, my brother?'
The solitary said. Replied the other,
The aged man, 'Once, long ago, I slew
A little bird about my flock that flew,—
A cruel stone I flung its life to end:
It was a wag-tail, and the shepherds' friend.'