BALLAD.
Come, Giulia, braid my hair; smooth let it be;
Some other time I'll do my best for thee.
Thine is so rippled! Mine one even flow,
Nor wave, nor curl—'tis well—Alesso likes it so.
Some other time I'll do my best for thee.
Thine is so rippled! Mine one even flow,
Nor wave, nor curl—'tis well—Alesso likes it so.
Look how Helena shakes. Is't so much colder?
Too cold for clouds. I would the moon were older!
'Twill light him, though. Oh put thy work away,
Sister! come near the fire. It is no longer day.
Too cold for clouds. I would the moon were older!
'Twill light him, though. Oh put thy work away,
Sister! come near the fire. It is no longer day.
We'll have no flowers but sea-flowers, wreaths, spray-fair,
Alesso's self shall crown my braided hair.
Sister, come help! Forget thine old, old sorrow.
I cannot think of grief. A bride I'll be to-morrow!
Alesso's self shall crown my braided hair.
Sister, come help! Forget thine old, old sorrow.
I cannot think of grief. A bride I'll be to-morrow!
