Page:The Kobzar of the Ukraine.pdf/57

Yes, Anna went. The old man pled,
Mark almost wept for her to stay,
As mother sit, to see him wed.
Her call of duty elsewhere lay.

"No, Mark, such honor must I not take
To sit while you your homage make
To parents dear.
My mind is clear.
A servant must not thy mother be
Lest wealthy guests may laugh at thee.
Now may God's mercy with thee stay,
To the saints at Kiev I go to pray.
But yet again shall I return
Unto your house, if you do not spurn
My strength and toil."

With pure heart
she blessed her Mark
And weeping, passed
beyond the gate.

Then the wedding blossomed out;
Work for musicians and the joyous rout
Of dancing feet;
While mead so sweet
Of fermented honey with spices dashed
Over the benches and tables splashed,
Meanwhile the Servant limps along
Hastening on the weary road to Kiev.
To the city come, she does not rest,