Page:Bohemian legends and other poems.djvu/42



When I used to go and see thee,
 * Stand beneath thy window sill,

See, I was quite sure, beloved one,
 * That we were one heart, one will.

Never did I think, beloved one,
 * We must part, I loving still.

And the last time that I saw thee
 * Weaving a fair myrtle wreath,

I sat watching, never thinking
 * Why you did not bind the leaf.

Now I pray thee, loved one, tell me,
 * Why unfinished is the wreath?

I was thinking, thinking sadly—
 * Thinking as I think to-day,

That we cannot wed, beloved one,
 * That our farewell we must say;

So I left the wreath unfinished,
 * Left unfinished to this day.

They would force me to be married
 * To a youth I cannot love;

They would drag me to the altar,
 * Sacrifice me like a dove;

They would force me to be wedded
 * To a lad I cannot love.

They would force me to be married,
 * Though I loath his very sight.

Go get ready for the wedding—
 * It will be a merry sight.

Go prepare the wedding banquet,
 * While I dress my hair aright.