274
Margaret.
Welcomed her leaping and harmlessly playing,
And her steed in the stable answered by neighing.
And her steed in the stable answered by neighing.
Rode she forth—I had leave to follow
Close at her bridle; to loiter free
By hill-side and wave-side and lone wood hollow,
Their high-flown pride would not swoop to me.
The slow spring-wind might, passing, bear
My peasant's breath across her hair,
Nor bid the rose-buds swelling there
Put forth one dewy leaf betimes,
And so I wooed her but in rhymes,
And praised her but as minstrels praise—
Spending my soul in courteous lays—
I might tilt with keen despair
Wooing her all my aimless days.
Thus, till drawn nigh to womanhood,
Her girlhood, like a Scottish snood,
Loose in her dark locks, Margaret stood.
Close at her bridle; to loiter free
By hill-side and wave-side and lone wood hollow,
Their high-flown pride would not swoop to me.
The slow spring-wind might, passing, bear
My peasant's breath across her hair,
Nor bid the rose-buds swelling there
Put forth one dewy leaf betimes,
And so I wooed her but in rhymes,
And praised her but as minstrels praise—
Spending my soul in courteous lays—
I might tilt with keen despair
Wooing her all my aimless days.
Thus, till drawn nigh to womanhood,
Her girlhood, like a Scottish snood,
Loose in her dark locks, Margaret stood.
'Twas then my love found voice and breath;
Not faint with hope, not meek in prayer,
Not faint with hope, not meek in prayer,
