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THE BLIND GIRL OF CASTEL-CUILLÈ.
FROM THE GASCON OF JASMIN.
At the foot of the mountain height
Where is perched Castèl-Cuillè, When the apple, the plum, and the almond-tree
In the plain below were growing white,
This is the song one might perceive On a Wednesday morn of Saint Joseph's Eve:
“ The roads should blossom, the roads should
bloom, So fair a bride shall leave her home! Should blossom and bloom with garlands gay: So fair a bride shall pass to-day!”
This old Te Deum, rustic rites attending,
Seemed from the clouds descending;
When lo! a merry company
Each one with her attendant swain, Came to the cliff, all singing the same strain; Resembling there, so near unto the sky, Rejoicing angels, that kind Heaven has sent For their delight and our encouragement.
The narrow sweep
Of the hill-side steep,
They wind aslant
Towards Saint Amant,
Through leafy alleys
“The roads should blossom, the roads should
bloom, So fair a bride shall leave her home!
Should blossom and bloom with garlands gay, So fair a bride shall pass to-day!”
It is Baptiste, and his affianced maiden,
The sky was blue; without one cloud of gloom,
The sun of March was shining brightly, And to the air the freshening wind gave lightly
Its breathings of perfume.
When one beholds the dusky hedges blossom, A rustic bridal, ah! how sweet it is!
To sounds of joyous melodies,
A band of maidens
Till in the veriest
Madness of mirth, as they dance,
est and merriest; While the bride, with roguish eyes, Sporting with them, now escapes and cries : 66 Those who catch me
shall be !"
And all pursue with eager haste,
And all attain what they pursue,
And the linen kirtle round her waist.
Meanwhile, whence comes it that among
And yet the bride is fair and young!
O no! for a maiden frail, I trow,
What lovers ! they give not a single caress !
These are grand people, one would say. What ails Baptiste? what grief doth him op