On the hill, the fir-tree hill, Grows a tall fir-tree: There a maiden, calm and still, Sits delightedly.

To a youthful swain she pledges Vows: "O come to me: Lightly spring across the hedges: Come--but slightly.

Come at eve--lest harm betide thee.

If any home thou seek, In our quiet dwelling hide thee; Not a whisper speak."

And he o'er the hedges sprung, Lo! a twig he tore: When the house-door ope he flung, Noisy was the door.

When he enter'd in, there fell Shelves upon the floor, 'Twas the broken china's knell-- O the luckless hour!

Then her mother comes afeard, Trips and cuts her knee; And her father burns his beard In perplexity.

And the youth must quench the fire, And the maiden must retire.

S. J. B.

LXVI

TIMIDITY

Lo! upon the mountain green Stands a fir-tree tall and thin-- 'Tis no fir-tree--none at all-- 'Tis a maiden thin and tall.

Three long years the enamour'd one Fed upon her eyes alone; On the fourth, he sought the bliss Of the maiden's primal kiss "Why, thou witching maid! repel me-- Why with foot of scorn dost tread, On my feet, my boots of red!

Why despise me, maiden! tell me."

"No, my friend, I will not tread On thy feet, thy boots of red!

Come at evening--come and string Pearls for me--and thou shalt fling O'er me my embroider'd shawl.

We will go at morning's call To the kolo--Friend! but thou Must not touch the maiden now--

Know'st thou not that busy slander Follows us wher'er we wander?

Evil tongues are ever talking; Calumny abroad is walking Know'st thou that a simple kiss Ample food for slander is?

'Never did we kiss,' you'll say, 'Till last evening and to-day.'

Come at evening--come, my dear.

Sisters' eyes will watch thee here."

S. J. B.

LXVII

YOUTH ENAMOURED

"Where wert thou! Misho! yesterday?"

"O 'twas a happy day for me!

A lovely maiden cross'd my way A maiden smiling lovelily And those sweet smiles for me were meant; I claimed her--mother answer'd, 'No!'

Would steal her--vain was the intent, For many guardians watch'd her so.

There grows a verdant almond-tree Before her house--its boughs I'll climb; Wail like a cuckoo mournfully, And swallow-like, at evening time, Pour forth my woe in throbbings deep And like a sorrowing widow sigh, And like a youthful maiden weep.

So may her mother turn her eye, Pitying my grief, her heart may move, And she may give me her I love."

S. J. B.

LXVIII

BLACK EYES AND BLUE

I wish the happy time were nigh, When youths are sold, that I might buy.

But for an azure-eyed Mlinar,[28]

I would not give a single dinar, Though for a raven-black eyed youth, A thousand golden coins, in truth.

Alas! alas! and is it true?

My own fair youth has eyes of blue; Yes! they are blue--yet dear to me-- Will he forgive my levity?

Ye maidens! pray him to forgive me; Nay! spare me now--and rather leave me To tell him "I am yours"--and smile In fond affection all the while.

S. J. B.

LXIX

THE WIDOW

Rose! O smile upon the youth no longer; He in his impatience to be wedded, Chose a widow for his years unsuited, And wher'er she goes, where'er she tarries, She is mourning for her ancient husband.

"O my husband! first and best possession!

Happy were the days we spent together!

Early we retired and late we waken'd Thou didst wake me kissing my white forehead, 'Up, my heart! the sun is high in heaven, And our aged mother is arisen.'"

S. J. B.

LXX

ALARMS

Fairest youths are here--but not the fairest!

Could I hear him now, or could I see him,-- Could I know if he be sick, or faithless!

Were he sick, my ears would rather hear it, Than that he had loved another maiden.

Sickness may depart, and time restore him,-- If enamour'd,--never! never! never!

S. J. B.