Mirèio/Appendix
APPENDIX.
MAGALI.
MÉLODlE PROVENÇALE POPULAIRE.
MAGALI.
I.
O Magali, my love, my treasure!
Open thy casement while I sing
A morning song, and round the measure
With tambourine and viol string.
II.
The sky with stars is glittering.
The wind 's at leisure;
But pale the stars of heaven will be,
Beholding thee!
III.
The morning song floats idly by me,
As whisper of the early breeze.
I to the silver deep will hie me:
I 'll be an eel! I 'll bannt the seas!
IV.
O Magali! the witcheries
In vain shall try me!
When thou art fish, I 'll fisher be.
And fish for thee!
V.
Wilt thou a fisher be, thou sayest?
Thy bait is flung for me in vain!
I will turn bird while thou delayest,
And wing my way across the plain.
VI.
O Magali! turn bird again.
If so thou mayest!
When thou art bird, I 'll fowler be,
Ensuaring thee!
VII.
Partridge and quail while thou art snaring
With cruel traps for tiny feet,
I 'll be a flower, my head uprearing
Secure, afar in meadows sweet.
VIII.
O Magali, my Marguerite!
I 'm filled with daring!
When thou art flower, I stream will be,
Refreshing thee!
IX.
If thou become a stream, what wonder
If I turn cloud the self-same day,
And swiftly, swiftly travel yonder,
Even to far America.
X.
O Magali! seek India,
Yet we 'll not sunder!
Behold! I the sea-breeze will be,
And carry thee.
XI.
The sea-breeze wilt thou, singer daring?
I can escape thee yet; for lo!
I 'll be the sun-ray, blinding, glaring,—
The fierce, hot ray that wastes the snow.
XII.
O Magali! and wilt thou so?
Then, earthward faring,
I will an emerald lizard be,
And swallow thee.
XIII.
And if thou turnest salamander,
Among the water-weeds to roam,
I 'll be the moon, in full-orbed splendor,
Lighting the ways of witch and gnome.
XIV.
O Magali! wilt thou become
That planet tender?
Then will I the white halo be,
Enfolding thee!
XV.
Yet though the halo hover o'er me,
I shall not feel thy folding arm.
I will turn virgin-rose before thee:
My thorns will keep me safe from harm.
XVI.
O Magali! the rose's charm
Shall not secure thee;
For I the butterfly will be,
Aye kissing thee.
XVII.
Away! away! and woe betide thee!
I nerer, never will be thine!
I in the oak's rough bark will hide me,
In glades where sun shall never shine.
XVIII.
Yet, Magali, thou shalt be mine,
Who hast defied me!
I will the knotted ivy be,
Fast binding thee!
XIX.
The hoary oak alone thou stayest
In thy victorious embrace!
For I to Saint Blasè will haste,
With the white nuns to take my place.
XX.
O Magali! thou shalt find grace
When there thou prayest,
For I the shaven priest will be,
Absolving thee!
XXI.
And if thou pass the portal holy,
A weeping train thou shalt descry,—
The convent-sisters wending slowly
About the coffin where I lie.
XXII.
Then, Magali, right glad were I!
That sleeper lowly
Wert thou, I would the warm earth be,
Aye clasping thee.
XXIII.
Now seest thou a glad believer!
This is not jest, this is not art.
Take thou my ring; and keep the giver,
Fair youth, for ever in thy heart!
XXIV.
O Magali! thou dost impart
Rapture for ever!
See now the stars, how pale they be
At sight of thee!