Chapter I: HEARD a sprightly swallow say

To a gray cuckoo t’ other day,—
“Thou art a happy bird indeed;
Thou dost not in the chimney breed,
Thou dost not hear the eternal jarring,
Of sisters and step-sisters warring;
Their woes and grievances rehearsing,
Cursing themselves, and others cursing.
A young step-sister once I saw,
Foul language at the elder throw;
“Perdition’s daughter! hence depart;
Thou hast no fruit beneath thy heart.”
And thus the elder one replied:
“Curse thy perverseness and thy pride!
Mijailo is a son of thine;
Now thou shalt bring forth daughters nine,
And madness shall their portion be.
Thy son shall cross the parting sea;
He never shall return to thee,
But, bathed in blood and wounded, pine!”

And thus she cursed;—the curse was true;
Her sister’s nine fair daughters grew;
And madness seized them,—seized them all:
Mijailo,—far away, and wounded,
By solitude and woe surrounded,
I heard him on his mother call:
“O mother! mother! send me now
A bandage of that snowy linen
Which you so thoughtlessly were spinning,
When curses wander’d to and fro.
In your rage you wove it,—now remove it;
Tear it for bandages, as you tore
Love and affection all asunder.
Where it was bleach’d thy son lies under;
With it cover his hot wounds o’er.
Rend it, mother! and send it, mother!
May it thy suffering son restore!”

FAREWELL. {112}

AGAINST white Buda’s walls, a vine
Doth its white branches fondly twine:
O, no! it was no vine-tree there;
It was a fond, a faithful pair,
Bound each to each in earliest vow—
And, O! they must be severed now!
And these their farewell words:—“We part—
Break from my bosom—break—my heart!
Go to a garden—go, and see,
Some rose-branch blushing on the tree;
And from that branch a rose-flower tear,
Then place it on thy bosom bare;
And as its leavelets fade and pine,
So fades my sinking heart in thine.”
And thus the other spoke: “My love!
A few short paces backward move,
And to the verdant forest go;
There’s a fresh water-fount below;
And in the fount a marble stone,
Which a gold cup reposes on;
And in the cup a ball of snow—
Love! take that ball of snow to rest
Upon thine heart within thy breast.
And as it melts unnoticed there,
So melts my heart in thine, my dear!”

THE VIOLET.

How captivating is to me,
Sweet flower! thine own young modesty!
Though did I pluck thee from thy stem,
There’s none would wear thy purple gem.
I thought, perchance, that Ali Bey—
But he is proud and lofty—nay!
He would not prize thee—would not wear
A flower so feeble though so fair:
His turban for its decorations
Had full blown roses and carnations.

SMILIA. {116}

SWEET Smilia-flowers did Smilia pull,
Her sleevelets and her bosom full;
By the cool stream she gather’d them,
And twined her many a diadem—
A diadem of flowery-wreaths;—
One round her brows its fragrance breathes;
One to her bosom-friend she throws;
The other where the streamlet flows
She flings, and says in gentlest tone—
“Swim on, thou odorous wreath! swim on,
Swim to my Juris’ home, and there
O whisper in his mother’s ear:
‘Say, wilt thou not thy Juris wed?—
Then give him not a widow’s bed;
But some sweet maiden, young and fair.’”

HARVEST SONG.

TAKE hold of your reeds, youths and maidens! and see
Who the kissers and kiss’d of the reapers shall be.
Take hold of your reeds, till the secret be told,
If the old shall kiss young, and the young shall kiss old.
Take hold of your reeds, youths and maidens! and see
What fortune and chance to the drawers decree:
And if any refuse, may God smite them—may they
Be cursed by Paraskev, the saint of to-day!
Now loosen your hands—now loosen, and see
Who the kissers and kiss’d of the reapers shall be. {117}

MAIDEN’S PRAYER.

BEAUTY’S maiden thus invoked the Heavens:
“Send me down a whirlwind! let it scatter
Yonder stony tower—its halls lay open!
Let me look on Gertshich Manoīlo.
If the otter on his knee is playing—
If the falcon sits upon his shoulder—
If the rose is blooming on his kalpak.” {118}

What she pray’d for speedily was granted:
And a storm-wind came across the ocean;
And the stony tower fell down before it:
And she look’d on Gertshich Manoīlo:
Saw the otter on his knees disporting:
Saw the falcon sitting on his shoulder:
Saw the rose upon his kalpak blooming.

KISSES.

WHAT’S the time of night, my dear?
For my maiden said, “I’ll come”—
Said “I’ll come,”—but is not here:
And ’tis now the midnight’s gloom.
Lone and silent home I turn’d;
But upon the bridge I met her—
Kiss’d her:—How my hot lips burned!—
How forget it—how forget her!
In one kiss full ten I drew:
And upon my lips there grew,
From that hour, a honey-dew,
As if sugar were my meat,
And my drink metheglin sweet.

HARVEST SONG.

LORD and master! let us homewards, let us homewards haste:
Far, far distant are our dwellings—far across the waste. {120a}

Some have aged mothers threat’ning—“Ne’er allow another:”
Some male-children {120b} in the cradle, crying for their mother:
Some impatient lovers chiding;—dearer they than brother.

CURSE.

THE maiden cursed her raven eyes,
She cursed them for their treacheries.
“Be blinded now, to you if heaven
All that is visible has given!
If ye see all, ye traitors, say
Why saw ye not my love to day:—
He pass’d my door,—but, truants, ye
Gave not the gentlest hint to me.
He had a nosegay in his hand,—
He wore a gold embroider’d band,—
’Twas made by other hands than mine!
Upon it wreathing branches twine:
May every branch embroidered there,
A miserable heart-wound bear;—
Upon each branch, may every leaf
Bring and betoken toil and grief.”

SALUTATION OF THE MORNING STAR.

Lo! the maiden greets the day-star! “Sister!
Sister star of morning! well I greet thee;
Thou dost watch the world from thine uprising
To thy sinking hour. In Herzgovina, {122}
Tell me didst thou see the princely Stephan?
Tell me, was his snowy palace open,
Were his steeds caparisoned, and ready;
And was he equipp’d his bride to visit?”

Gently then the morning star responded:
“Lovely sister! beautiful young maiden,
True, I watch the world from my uprising
To my setting;—and in Herzgovina
Saw the palace of the princely Stephan;
And that snowy palace was wide open,
And his horse was saddled, and was ready,
And he was equipp’d his bride to visit:
But not thee—not thee—another maiden;
False tongues three have whisper’d evil of thee;
One has said—thine origin is lowly;
One, that thou art treacherous as a serpent;
And the third, that thou art dull and dreamy.”

Then the maiden pour’d her imprecations:
“He who said my origin was lowly,
Never let a child of love be born him;
He who called me treacherous as a serpent,
Round his heart, O! let a serpent wreathe it;
Through hot summers in his hair be tangled,
Through cold winters in his bosom nestle;
He who dar’d to call me dull and dreamy,
Nine long years may he be worn by sickness,
And no sleep renew his strength to bear it.”

THE KNITTER.

THE maiden sat upon the hill,
Upon the hill and far away,
Her fingers wove a silken cord,
And thus I heard the maiden say:
“O with what joy, what ready will,
If some fond youth, some youth adored,
Might wear thee, should I weave thee now!
The finest gold I’d interblend,
The richest pearls as white as snow.
But if I knew, my silken friend,
That an old man should wear thee, I
The coarsest worsted would inweave,
Thy finest silk for dog-grass leave,
And all thy knots with nettles tie.”

ROYAL CONVERSE.

THE king from the queen an answer craves;
“How shall we now employ our slaves?”
The maidens in fine embroidery,
The widows shall spin flax-yarn for me,
And the men shall dig in the fields for thee.

The king from the queen an answer craves;
“How shall we, lady, feed our slaves?”
The maidens shall have the honey-comb sweet,
The widows shall feed on the finest wheat,
And the men of maize-meal bread shall eat.

The king from the queen an answer craves;
“Where for the night shall rest our slaves?”
The maidens shall sleep in the chambers high,
The widows on mattress’d beds shall lie,
And the men on nettles under the sky.

ROSA.

UNDER roses slept the maiden Rosa,
And a rose fell down and waken’d Rosa;
To the flower-rose, said the maiden Rosa—
“Rose of mine! O fall not on the maiden,
I am in no tune of soul to love thee,
For a heavy grief o’erwhelms my spirit;
Youth would have me,—but old age hath won me.
An old bridegroom is a worthless maple;
When the wind is up it faints and trembles;
When the rain descends, decay decays it:
But a young bride, is a roselet budding;
When the wind is up, its fair leaves open,
When the rain descends, it shines in beauty,—
When the sun comes forth, it smiles and glories.”

THE MAIDEN AND THE SUN.

A MAIDEN proudly thus the sun accosted:
“Sun! I am fairer far than thou,—far fairer;
Fairer than is thy sister {127a} or thy brethren,—
Fairer than yon bright moon at midnight shining,
Fairer than yon gay star in heav’n’s arch twinkling,
That star, all other stars preceding proudly,
As walks before his sheep the careful shepherd.”
The sun complain’d to God of such an insult:
“What shall be done with this presumptuous maiden?”
And to the sun God gave a speedy answer:
“Thou glorious Sun! thou my beloved daughter! {127b}
Be joyous yet! say, why art thou dejected?
Wilt thou reward the maiden for her folly—
Shine on, and burn the maiden’s snowy forehead.
But I a gloomier dowry yet will give her;
Evil to her shall be her husband’s brother;
Evil to her shall be her husband’s father.
Then shall she think upon the affront she gave thee.”

THE MAIDEN’S WISH.

IF I had, ah Laso!
All the emp’ror’s treasures,
Well I know, ah Laso!
What with these I’d purchase;
I would buy, ah Laso!
Garden on the Sava;
Well I know, ah Laso!
What my hands would plant there;
I would plant, ah Laso!
Hyacinths, carnations.
If I had, ah Laso!
All the emp’ror’s treasures,
Well I know, ah Laso!
What with these I’d purchase;
I would buy, ah Laso!
I would purchase Laso,
He should be, ah Laso!
Gardener in my garden.

THE FALCON.

THE falcon soars both far and high,
He spreads his pinions in the sky;
Then from his cloudy heights he lowers,
And seats him on the city’s towers:
He sees a laughing girl of grace,
In crystal water bathe her face;
And looks with open, eager eye
Upon her neck of ivory:
White as the snow upon the mountain;
And there he hears a youth recounting
His tale of love.—“Now bend thy head
Upon thy snowy neck,” he said;
“Its whiteness is too bright for me:
And ’neath it sorrowing heart may be.”

HEROES SERVED.

UPON the silent Danube’s shore,
When ev’ning wastes, ’tis sweet to see
(Their golden wine cups flowing o’er);
Our heroes in their revelry.

A youthful beauty pours the wine,
And each will pledge a cup to her;
And each of charms that seem divine,
Would fain become a worshiper.

“Nay! heroes, nay!” the virgin cried,
“My service—not my love—I give:
For one alone—for none beside:
For one alone I love and live.”

YOUTH AND AGE.

Lo! the maid her rosy cheeks is laving.
Listen! while she bathes her snowy forehead:
“Forehead! if I thought an old man’s kisses
Would be stamp’d upon thee, I would hasten
To the forest, and would gather wormwood:
Into boiling water press its bitters:
With it steep my forehead ev’ry morning,
That the old man’s kiss might taste of wormwood.
But, if some fair youth should come to kiss me,
I would hurry to the verdant garden:
I would gather all its sweetest roses,
Would condense their fragrance,—and at morning,
Every morning, would perfume my forehead:
So the youth’s sweet kiss would breathe of fragrance,
And his heart be gladden’d with the odour.
Better dwell with youth upon the mountains,
Than with age in luxury’s richest palace:
Better sleep with youth on naked granite,
Than with eld on silks howe’er voluptuous!”

CHOICE.

IN my court the morning’s twilight found me;
At the chase the early sun while rising,
I upon the mountain—and behind it,
On that mountain, ’neath a dark-green pine tree,
Lo! I saw a lovely maiden sleeping;
On a clover-sheaf her head was pillow’d;
On her bosom lay two snowy dovelets;
In her lap there was a dappled fawnkin.
There I tarried till the fall of ev’ning:
Bound my steed at night around the pine-tree:
Bound my falcon to the pine-tree branches:
Gave the sheaf of clover to my courser:
Gave the two white dovelets to my falcon:
Gave the dappled fawn to my good greyhound:
And, for me,—I took the lovely maiden.

ANXIETY.