Venevil (From Arne)

(See Note)

Fair Venevil hastened with tripping feet
    Her lover to meet.
He sang, so it rang o'er the church far away:
    "Good-day! Good-day!"

And all the little birds sang right merrily their lay:
    "Midsummer Day
    Brings us laughter and play;
But later know I little, if she twines her wreath so gay!"

She twined him a wreath of the flowers blue:
    "My eyes for you!"
He tossed it and caught it and to her did bend:
    "Good-by, my friend!"
And loudly he exulted at the field's far distant end:
    "Midsummer Day
    Brings us laughter and play;
But later know I little, if she twines her wreath so gay!"

She twined him a wreath: "Do at all you care
    For my golden hair?"
She twined one, and gave in life's hour so rare
    Her red lips' pair;
He took them and he pressed them, and he blushed as she did there.

She twined one all white as a lily-band:
    "'T is my right hand."
She twined one blood-red, with her love in each strand:
    "'T is my left hand."
He took them both and kept them both, but would not understand.

She twined of the flowers that bloomed around
    "Every one I found!"
She gathered and twined, while tears would her eyes fill:
    "Take them you will!"
In silence then he took them, but to flight he turned him still.

She twined one so large, of discordant hue:
    "My bride's-wreath true!"
She twined it and twined, till her fingers were sore:
    "Crown me, I implore!"
But when she turned, he was not there, she never saw him more.

She twined yet undaunted without a stay
    At her bride's-array.
But now it was long past the Midsummer Day,
    All the flowers away:
She twined it of the flowers, though they all were now away!
    "Midsummer Day
    Brings us laughter and play;
But later know I little, if she twines her wreath so gay!"