Page:Bohemian poems, ancient and modern (Lyra czecho-slovanska).djvu/119



MAY-TREE fair at Whitsuntide Was brought me by my lover, It was the fairest pine he could In all the grove discover.

E’en as a fish’s eye the moon Doth in my chamber shine, I see him from the window, and His feelings well divine.

He at the window knock’d, and ‘Grant, O grant one kiss!’ he cried, But like a little mouse beneath The coverlet I hide.

Right eye above the coverlet Seems fast asleep to be, Left eye beneath the coverlet Laughs at him merrily.

He calls again; not so the stag Thirsts for the cooling tide, Not so the bee that longing seeks For honey far and wide.

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