"At the beginning." Corona took charge of him with a nod at the Chaplain. "We're pilgrims, all four of us, home from the Holy Land; and we start by knocking up Brother Manby and just perishing for a drink."
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE PERVIGILIUM.
'Now learn ye to love who loved never—now
ye who have loved, love anew!
It is Spring, it is chorussing Spring: 'tis the
birthday of earth, and for you!
It is Spring; and the Loves and the birds
wing together, and woo to accord
Where the bough to the rain has unbraided
her locks as a bride to her lord.
For she walks—She our Lady, our Mistress
of Wedlock,—the woodlands atween,
And the bride-bed she weaves them, with
myrtle enlacing, with curtains of green.
Look, list ye the law of Dione, aloft and
enthroned in the blue:—
Now learn ye to love who loved never—now
ye who have loved, love anew!'
'Now learn ye to love who loved never—now
ye who have loved, love anew!
It is Spring, it is chorussing Spring: 'tis the
birthday of earth, and for you!
It is Spring; and the Loves and the birds
wing together, and woo to accord
Where the bough to the rain has unbraided
her locks as a bride to her lord.
For she walks—She our Lady, our Mistress
of Wedlock,—the woodlands atween,
And the bride-bed she weaves them, with
myrtle enlacing, with curtains of green.
Look, list ye the law of Dione, aloft and
enthroned in the blue:—
Now learn ye to love who loved never—now
ye who have loved, love anew!'
"H'm, h'm—tolerable only! 'Aloft and established in blue'—is that better?"
"Uncle Copas, whatever are you doing?"
Corona looked up from her page of irregular verbs, and across to her preceptor as he sat muttering and scribbling.
"The idlest thing in the world, child. Translating."