Page:Cheskian Anthology.pdf/139

 My lover is coming on faithful steed,

Make ready the chamber, make ready the hall,

They must be swept and garnish'd all;

And he shall find a welcome indeed.

! sweet mother mine!

Gold is that heart of thine:

Go forth, my mother, the youth to meet,

I will make ready the chambers and ball-—

Yes! I will sweep and garnish them all,

And we will give him a welcome sweet.

! sweet mother mine!

Gold is that heart of thine;

My love is fording the running water;

I see him threading the narrow way—

He hastens hither—O misery—nay!

He has taken the path to the Rychtar's daughter.