THE BLIND GIRL OF CASTEL-CUILLÈ,42 FROM THE GASCON OF JASMIN. Only the Lowland tongue of Scotland might Let me attempt it with an English quill; And take, O reader, for the deed the will. I. AT the foot of the mountain height Where is perched Castèl-Cuillè, When the apple, the plum, and the almond-tree On a Wednesday morn of Saint Joseph's eve : "The roads should blossom, the roads should bloom, So fair a bride shall leave her home! Should blossom and bloom with garlands gay, So fair a bride shall pass to-day!" This old Te Deum, rustic rites attending, When lo! a merry company Of rosy village girls, clean as the eye, Each one with her attendant swain, Came to the cliff, all singing the same strain ; Resembling there, so near unto the sky, Rejoicing angels, that kind Heaven has sent For their delight and our encouragement. Together blending, And soon descending The narrow sweep Of the hill-side steep, Towards Saint Amant, Singing their chant : "The roads should blossom, the roads should bloom, So fair a bride shall leave her home! Should blossom and bloom with garlands gay, So fair a bride shall pass to-day!" It is Baptiste and his affianced maiden, The sky was blue; without one cloud of gloom, When one beholds the dusky hedges blossom, To sounds of joyous melodies, That touch with tenderness the trembling bosom, H H A band of maidens Gaily frolicking, A band of youngsters Wildly rollicking! With fingers pressing, Till in the veriest Madness of mirth, as they dance, Trying whose laugh shall be loudest While the bride, with roguish eyes, Sporting with them, now escapes and cries: "Those who catch me Married verily This year shall be !" And all pursue with eager haste, And all attain what they pursue, Meanwhile, whence comes it that among Is it Saint Joseph would say to us all, Oh, no! for a maiden frail, I trow, These are grand people, one would say. It is, that, half way up the hill, And you must know, one year ago, Love, the deceiver, them ensnared ; All at the father's stern command was changed; Returned but three short days ago, The golden chain they round him throw, He is enticed, and onward led Then suddenly a maiden cried, "Anna, Theresa, Mary, Kate! Here comes the cripple Jane !" And by a fountain's side A woman, bent and gray with years, Under the mulberry-trees appears, It is that Jane, the cripple Jane, And the bride a lovely boy straightway. She never deceives, she never errs. But for this once the village seer Wears a countenance severe, And from beneath her eyebrows thin and white Changing colour, as well he might, |