Page:Mistral - Mirèio. A Provençal poem.djvu/101

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As for the goblet he was tendering,
You would have said that no such fairy thing
Was ever wrought by shepherd's knife or wit:
A full-flowered poppy wreathed the rim of it;
And in among the languid flowers there
Two chamois browsed, and, these the handles were.

A little lower down were maidens three,
And certes they were marvellous to see:
Near by, beneath a tree, a shepherd-lad
Slept, while on tiptoe stole the maidens glad,
And sought to seal his lips, ere he should waken,
With a grape-cluster from their basket taken.

Yet even now he smiles at their illusion,
So that the foremost maid is all confusion.
The odor of the goblet proved it new:
The giver had not drunk therefrom; and you
Had said, but for their woody coloring,
The carven shapes were each a living thing.

Mirèio scanned the fair cup curiously.
"A tempting offering thine, shepherd!" said she:
But suddenly, "A finer one than this
Hath my heart's lord! Shepherd, his love it is!
Mine eyes close, his impassioned glances feeling:
I falter with the rapture o'er me stealing!"