S. J. B.

LV

MOTHER'S LOVE

On the balcony young Jovan sported, While he sported, lo! it crash'd beneath him, And he fell,--his right arm broke in falling!

Who shall find a surgeon for the sufferer?

Lo! the Vila[24] of the mountain sends one, But the recompense he asks is heavy; Her white hand demands he of the mother,-- Of the sister all her silken ringlets,-- Of the wife he asks her pearl-strung necklace.

Freely gave her hand young Jovan's mother, Freely gave her silken hair his sister, But his wife refus'd her pearly treasure:-- "Nay! I will not give my pearl-strung necklace, For it was a present of my father."

Anger then incens'd the Mountain-Vila, Into Jovan's wounds she pour'd her poison, And he died,--Alas! for thee, poor mother!

Then began the melancholy cuckoos,[25]

Cuckoos then began their funeral dirges; One pour'd out her mournful plaints unceasing, One at morning mourn'd, and mourn'd at ev'ning, And the third when'er sad thoughts came o'er her.

Tell me which is the unceasing mourner?

'Tis the sorrowing mother of young Jovan.

Which at morning mourns and late at evening?

'Tis the grieving sister of young Jovan.

Which when melancholy thoughts come o'er her?

'Tis the youthful wife,--the wife of Jovan.

S. J. B.

LVI

THE GREYBEARD

I heard young Falisava say: "I'll have no ancient greybeard, nay!

A sprightly beardless youth for me."

An aged man the maiden heard, He shaves his long and snowy beard, And paints his chin like ebony: To Falisava then he goes-- "My heart! my soul! my garden rose!

A beardless youth is come for thee."

And then she listen'd--they were wed-- And to the old man's home they sped.

Then twilight came, and evening's shade-- And said the old man to the maid: "Sweet Falisava! maiden fair!

Our bed beside the stove prepare, And the warm feather-mattress bear"-- The maiden heard--the maiden went, And gather'd flowers of sweetest scent-- Of sweetest scent and fairest hue, Which on the old man's bed she threw, And like on a strong-wing'd eagle then Flew to her father's home again.

S. J. B.

LVII

MOHAMMEDAN TALE

Who is mourning there in Glamodelec's fortress?

'Tis the Vila--'tis an angry serpent?

'Tis no Vila--'tis no angry serpent!

'Tis the maid Emina there lamenting-- There lamenting, for her woe is grievous!

Lo! the Ban[26] the maiden hath imprison'd-- Hath imprison'd her, and will baptize her; But Emina never will be faithless-- From the white-wall'd tower will fling her rather.

Thus the unbelieving Ban address'd her: "Unbelieving Ban! a moment tarry, While I hasten to the upper story."

And she hasten'd to the upper story; Look'd around her from the white-wall'd fortress: In the distance saw her father's dwelling-- Saw the white school where she pa.s.s'd her childhood "O my father's home! my poor heart's sorrow!

School of childhood! once that childhood's terror!

Many a day of weariness and sorrow Did thy small-writ lessons give Emina."

Then she wrapp'd her snowy robes around her-- Thought not of the band that bound her tresses, And she flung her from the fortress turret.

But her hair-band caught the open window-- From the window, ah she hung suspended-- Hung a week suspended from the window-- Then her hair gave away--and then the maiden On the greensward fell.

The Christian heard it-- He, the Christian Ban, and hasten'd thither; Oft and oft he kiss'd the dead Emina; And he peacefully entom'd the maiden.

O'er her grave a chapel he erected, And with golden apples he adorn'd it.

Ere a week had pa.s.s'd away, descended On her tomb a beauteous light from heaven; At her head a beauteous light was kindled; At her feet another light shone sweetly; And her aged mother saw and wonder'd From her chain she took her knife, and plunged it-- Plunged it deep within her troubled bosom-- Fell, and died--O melancholy mother!

S. J. B.

LVIII

LOVE'S DIFFICULTIES

I loved her from her infancy, Lado![27] Lado!

From childhood to maturity, Lado! Lado!

And when I claim'd the smiling maid, Lado! Lado!

"Ye are of kindred blood!" they said, Lado! Lado!

"Brother and sister's children ye, Lado! Lado!

It were a sin to steal a kiss,"

Lado! Lado!

Oh what a sacrifice is this!

Lado! Lado!

I'll steal a kiss though I be riven, Lado! Lado!

From every, every hope of heaven, Lado! Lado!

For what would heaven become to me Lado! Lado!

When the long nights of autumn flee, Lado! Lado!

S. J. B.