He rose and went away. The sun had set, but the summer night was light and the sky clear blue. The mist from the lake and the valleys rose, and lay along the mountain-sides, but their peaks were left clear, and stood looking over to each other. He went higher: the water lay black and deep below; the distant valley shortened and drew nearer the lake; the mountains came nearer the eye and gathered in clumps; the sky itself was lower; and all things became friendly and familiar.
IX.
THE NUTTING-PARTY.
"Fair Venevill bounded on lithesome feet
Her lover to meet.
He sang till it sounded afar away,
'Good-day, good-day,'
While blithesome birds were singing on every blooming spray.
On Midsummer-day
There is dancing and play;
But now I know not whether she weaves her wreath or nay.
"She wove him a wreath of corn-flowers blue:
'Mine eyes so true.'
He took it, but soon away it was flung:
'Farewell!' he sung;
And still with merry singing across the fields he sprung.
On Midsummer-day, &c.
"She wove him a chain: 'Oh keep it with care;
'Tis made of my hair.'
She yielded him then, in an hour of bliss,
Her pure first kiss;
But he blushed as deeply as she the while her lips met his
On Midsummer-day, &c.
"She wove him a wreath with a lily-band:
'My true right hand.'
She wove him another with roses aglow:
'My left hand now.'
He took them gently from her, but blushes dyed his brow.
On Midsummer-day, &c.
"She wove him a wreath of all flowers round:
'All I have found.'
She wept, but she gathered and wove on still:
'Take all you will.'
Without a word he took it, and fled across the hill.
On Midsummer-day, &c.
"She wove on bewildered and out of breath:
'My bridal wreath.'
She wove till her fingers aweary had grown:
'Now put it on:'
But when she turned to see him, she found that he had gone.
On Midsummer-day, &c.