In sooth, deceit maketh no mortal gay,
For lo! Baptiste on this triumphant day,
Mute as an idiot, sad as yester-morning,
Thinks only of the beldame’s words of warning.
And Angela thinks of her cross, I wis;
To be a bride is all! The pretty lisper
Feels her heart swell to hear all round her whisper,
“How beautiful! how beautiful she is!”.
But she must calm that giddy
head,
For already the Mass is said;
At the holy table stands the
priest;
The wedding ring is blessed; Baptiste receives it;
Ere on the finger of the bride he leaves it,
He must pronounce one word
at least!
’T is spoken; and sudden at the grooms-man’s
side
“’T is he!” a well-known voice has
cried.
And while the wedding guests all hold their breath,
Opes the confessional, and the blind girl, see!
“Baptiste,” she said, “since thou
hast wished my death,
As holy water be my blood for thee!”
And calmly in the air a knife suspended!
Doubtless her guardian angel near attended,
For anguish did its work so
well,
That, ere the fatal stroke
descended,
Lifeless
she fell!
At eve instead of bridal verse,
The De Profundis filled the
air;
Decked with flowers a simple
hearse
To the churchyard forth they
bear;
Village girls in robes of
snow
Follow, weeping as they go;
Nowhere was a smile that day,
No, ah no! for each one seemed to say:—
“The road should mourn and be veiled in gloom,
So fair a corpse shall leave its home!
Should mourn and should weep, ah, well-away!
So fair a corpse shall pass to-day!”
A CHRISTMAS CAROL
FROM THE NOEI BOURGUIGNON DE GUI BAROZAI
I hear along our street
Pass the minstrel throngs;
Hark! they play so sweet,
On their hautboys, Christmas songs!
Let us by the
fire
Ever higher
Sing them till the night expire!
In December ring
Every day the chimes;
Loud the gleemen sing
In the streets their merry rhymes.
Let us by the
fire
Ever higher
Sing them till the night expire.
Shepherds at the grange,
Where the Babe was born,
Sang, with many a change,
Christmas carols until morn.
Let us by the
fire
Ever higher
Sing them till the night expire!
These good people sang
Songs devout and sweet;
While the rafters rang,
There they stood with freezing feet.
Let us by the
fire
Ever higher
Sing them till the night expire.
Nuns in frigid veils
At this holy tide,
For want of something else,
Christmas songs at times have tried.
Let us by the
fire
Ever higher
Sing them fill the night expire!