"George Bidder - Merlin's Youth" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bidder George)

The moon played on her head, and yellow hair
Flowed to her waist with never let or care;
White dress, white arms, shone in the mystic light,
Pale cheeks, and lips compressed, were desolate:
She seemed a spirit wandered forth by fate,
To give a pallid soul to the dead night.

3

She looked toward the moon; and, stooping down,
Reached backward without gazing, from the sward
Plucking three strange leaves, and with a careful ward
Knotted them fast enfolded in her gown;
Nor ever looked but straitly at the moon,
And murmured weary words to strange sad tune: --

"Listen maid, listen man,
Catch bubble who catch can,
Surge tide, river glide;
Merge bush, shiver rush:
Watch, fair lady of the skies!
Look me, look me in the eyes;
You shall not see me pick your prize."

I knew not if she were of fairy birth,
But knew that she was fair, as never yet
Has man known and been able to forget.
I knew not were she slight or honest worth;
But knew that how so e'er I lived on earth,
For how so many years, without her it was dearth.

And stepping forth beside her on the dew,
I said, "The night is lonely in this place,
The moon is poor protection for your grace;
The wolves are fierce, and those that dare them few:
Till you find safer guardian I will stand
Beside you; strong or weak, to your command."

4

And so I turned, proud of my youth and might,
Of skill and courage -- for, whate'er the fight,
The swift eye and the swiftly-reasoning brain,
Knowing when best to give, and when to take,
And vantage out of direst chance to make,
Laughs at the strength that rives an oak in twain; --

Proud of my power, shamed of my nakedness;
Nor caring what this maid with golden tress