Sàï is small,
But a little child,
With little sorrows;
Yet her tears shine with laughter,
Her face comes and goes between the wet leaves,
As a face in sleep
Comes and goes between green shadows,
As moving lights hide and shine in the marshes.
I shall not look at her,
Lest she should hide from mine eyes
In the shadow.
I bring her pale honey in a comb, apples
Sweet and smelling; and leave them beside me;
Then comes she softly.
There is a bee in the willow-weed,
From flower to flower it climbs, and I watch it
Till the honey and apples are eaten.
Sàï is quite close to me; now she has gone
She has forgotten me.
Sàï is small,
But a little child.
THE SHEPHERDS’ CAROL OF
BETHLEHEM
A golden star hangs in the night,
Heigh-ho, the bitter winds blow!
And all the fields are clad in white:
I saw three shepherds out in the snow.
What maketh Mary’s face so pale?
Heigh-ho, the bitter winds blow!
It is the hour of her travail:
I saw three shepherds out in the snow.
She lies between an ass and beast,
Heigh-ho, the bitter winds blow!
Three kings come riding from the east:
I saw three shepherds out in the snow.
Caspar, Melchior, Balthazar,
Heigh-ho, the bitter winds blow!
They have ridden out of the lands afar:
I saw three shepherds out in the snow.