Page:Mistral - Mirèio. A Provençal poem.djvu/72

 CANTO III.

THE COCOONING.$1$

HEN the crop is fair in the olive-yard, And the earthen jars are ready For the golden oil from the barrels poured,
 * And the big cart rocks unsteady

With its tower of gathered sheaves, and strains And groans on its way through fields and lanes;

When brawny and bare as an old athlete
 * Comes Bacchus the dance a-leading,

And the laborers all, with juice-dyed feet,
 * The vintage of Crau are treading,

And the good wine pours from the brimful presses, And the ruddy foam in the vats increases;

When under the leaves of the Spanish broom
 * The clear silk-worms are helden,

An artist each, in a tiny loom,
 * Weaving a web all golden,—

Fine, frail cells out of sunlight spun, Where they creep and sleep by the million,—