Page:Mistral - Mirèio. A Provençal poem.djvu/261

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"Look closer! There 's a bark, without a sail,
Wafted toward us by a gentle gale,
And they are on it! And the swell subsides
Before them, and the bark so softly glides!
Clear is the air and all the sea like glass,
And the sea-birds do homage as they pass!"

"Poor child! she wanders," murmured they; "for we
See only the red sunset on the sea!"
"Yet it is they! Mine eyes deceive me not,"
The sick one answered eagerly. "The boat—
Now low, now lifted—I see drawing near.
Oh, miracle of God!—the boat is here!"

Now was she paling, as a marguerite
Half-blown and smitten by a tropic heat,
While crouching Vincen, horror in his heart,
Or ere his well-beloved quite depart
Hath her in charge unto our Lady given,
To the Saints of the chapel and of heaven.

Lit are the tapers, and, in violet stole
Begirt, the priest, to stay the passing soul.
Lays angel's bread to those dry lips of hers,
And the last unction so administers;
Then of her body the seven parts anoints
With holy oil, as holy church appoints.