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HERTHA.
O swift and pure! half bright, half dark,
It trailed the supple willow bough;
Thence rose the grateful meadow-lark,
Singing as but the lark knows how:
I looked therein, and blushed to mark
The fretful line across my brow.
It trailed the supple willow bough;
Thence rose the grateful meadow-lark,
Singing as but the lark knows how:
I looked therein, and blushed to mark
The fretful line across my brow.
"My loving Hertha," then I sighed,
"I am ashamed of grief to-day!
Be thou my mentor as my guide;
Thy mood I'll mirror, grave or gay."
She pondered, laughed, and she replied,
"Then half yourself you'll throw away!"
"I am ashamed of grief to-day!
Be thou my mentor as my guide;
Thy mood I'll mirror, grave or gay."
She pondered, laughed, and she replied,
"Then half yourself you'll throw away!"
"Even so," quoth I, and laughed as well;
Meanwhile the brooklet at our feet
Had plunged into a cooling dell,
And under talking trees did beat:
Howbeit, though they had news to tell,
Their speech to us was obsolete.
Meanwhile the brooklet at our feet
Had plunged into a cooling dell,
And under talking trees did beat:
Howbeit, though they had news to tell,
Their speech to us was obsolete.
Despite the roughness of the way,
With childish glee we wandered down;
The scented brier would lean and sway,
And lightly pluck us by the gown;
Our steps did many a bird affray,
Our laughter many a warble drown.
With childish glee we wandered down;
The scented brier would lean and sway,
And lightly pluck us by the gown;
Our steps did many a bird affray,
Our laughter many a warble drown.
