ROUND THE HOP-BIN.
Round the hop-bin six fair maidens,
Throwing from them sunny glances;
Knowing not a thought that ladens
Heart and mind with mournful fancies;
Laughing at each other’s love-whims,
Calling blushes to warm faces,
Till the very moist joy swims
From their eyes in glancing graces.
In the pure breath of the morning,
’Neath September’s glow all golden,
Luscious fruits old earth adorning,
Autumn’s own rich flowers unfolden;
Round the hop-bin six young maidens,
Throwing from them sunny glances,
Knowing not a thought that ladens
Heart and mind with mournful fancies.
From the bright bind fairy fingers
Pluck the hop-flowers rich in honey;
Now and then a white hand lingers,
While a thought beams out all sunny;
While a flute-voice tells a story,—
Story of young Love’s first suing;
While the day in golden glory
Glows around them, beauty wooing.
Look at Lucy, how she blushes,
Fairer than a rose of summer;
While the gay group’s laughter hushes
As all turn to greet the comer.
Happy fellow! Maida’s brother,
Come, he says, to claim his sister;
Yet his eyes were on another,
While with careless lip he kist her.
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In a moment they surround him:
Twelve small hands uplift their whiteness;
In a moment they have bound him
In their arms of snowy brightness.
Now they lift him, luckless fellow!
In the full bin next they slide him,
While ’midst laughter, rich and mellow,
Deeply ’neath the hops they hide him.
There he rests, the gay and handsome,
There like smothered chrysalis,
Till he offers for his ransom
Gloves for all, and one a kiss!
Whose the kiss? ah, blushing Lucy!
There behind the autumn roses,
Where the grapes hang lush and juicy,
Takes the ransom he proposes.
There her saucy friends, like graces,
Through the green shrubs lightly stealing,
Peep out their bewitching faces,
Joyous bursts of laughter pealing.
While the frightened Lucy, blushing,
Startles closer to her lover,
Who with feignèd anger rushing,
Drives them from their leafy cover.
Round the hop-bin six young maidens,
Throwing from them sunny glances,
Knowing not a thought that ladens
Heart and mind with mournful fancies.
May their lot through life be painless,
One’s joy give joy to the others;
And those maidens, pure and stainless,
Bloom to comely wives and mothers.
E. D. F.
