IT WAS THE SPRING SIX MONTHS AGO.
It was the spring six months ago,
And in the fresh, green fields below,
My bleating flock around me fed,
While watching them I spun my thread,
And naught of sin or shame did know.
But Colin came one evening fair,
With tender words beguiled me there;
"Dear shepherdess, come take my arm,
Lest lonely roads should bring you harm,
And ghosts or wolves in darkness scare."
In his my trusting hand I place,
While love invades me with its grace;
I could not check his passion's strength,
And wished the road of greater length,
While listening with a blushing face.
But Colin has a faithless mind,
Inconstant as the changing wind.
While I shamefaced must hide at home,
Vainly asking when my love will come,
But my dog alone is true and kind.
The conscription, which compels the peasant, who has drawn the fatal number, to leave his native fields and his mistress, is an important and disturbing influence in the rural life of France, and finds a frequent place in its folk-song. Sometimes it is taken gayly, and the lover departs in high spirits, singing along the road to the garrison with his companions, and promising fidelity to his mistress to whom he hopes soon to return. It is thus in the gay song Voici l'Hiver Passé.