Page:Mistral - Mirèio. A Provençal poem.djvu/73

] Glad is Provence on a day like that,
 * 'Tis the time of jest and laughter:

The Ferigoulet$2$ and the Baume Muscat$3$
 * They quaff and they sing thereafter.

And lads and lasses, their toils between, Dance to the tinkling tambourine.

"Methinks, good neighbors, I am Fortune's pet. Ne'er in my-trellised arbor saw I yet A silkier bower, cocoons more worthy praise, Or richer harvest, since the year of grace When first I laid my hand on Ramoun's arm And came, a youthful bride, to Lotus Farm."

So spake Jano Mario, Ramoun's wife, The fond, proud mother who had given life To our Mirèio. Unto her had hied, The while were gathered the cocoons outside, Her neighbors. In the silk-worm-room they throng; And, as they aid the picking, gossip long.

To these Mirèio tendered now and then Oak-sprigs and sprays of rosemary; for when The worms, lured by the mountain odor, come In myriads, there to make their silken home, The sprays and sprigs, adornèd in such wise. Are like the golden palms of Paradise.