66
MIRÈIO.
[Canto III.
The voices of the rest. Their heads were drooping,
As they before the melody were stooping,
Like slender reeds that lean and sway for ever
Before the flowing eddies of a river.
Till Noro said, "Now is the air serene;
And here the mowers come, their scythes to clean
Beside the vivary brook. Mirèio, dear,
Bring us a few St. John's Day apples here.
And we will add a little new-made cheese,
And take our lunch beneath the lotus-trees."
