134
BOHEMIAN LEGENDS.
FLAX.
All day long,
My wheel strong,
Drives the flaxen thread along.
From the linen what will be?
He who waits will surely see—
A shirt as white as lily.
Weaver mine,
Take this twine,
Weave it quickly, weaver mine.
Linen thin, and soft and white;
Maiden shirts, for my delight—
For his mother, see, a shroud.