Page:Bohemian legends and other poems.djvu/68

 But though so lonely, still I loved Above myself a youth beloved.

He wandered far to earn his bread— And came no more—perhaps is dead.

Before he went away he said, Wiping my tears, ‘We soon shall wed.’

‘Sow flax, my loved one, in your field; God give you have a bounteous yield.

‘The first year spin the flaxen thread, Then bleach it white, we soon shall wed; The third year, sew thy shirt,’ he said.

‘And when the shirt is sewed, my fair, Then make a garland for thy hair.’

The shirt I finished, put away, And there it lies unto this day.

My wreath is faded, withered now— But where art thou? Oh, where art thou?

In the wide world you went away, Wide as the sea, I heard them say.

Three years have passed—I do not know If still you live—perhaps lie low.

Mary! Virgin of mighty strength! Give me, give me thy aid at length.

Bring, oh, bring, my loved again— Make an end of my lingering pain.

Bring my loved to me again, Or let me die—my life is vain.

I hoped indeed to be his wife— And without him—well, what is life!