The swarthy woman then went inside,
To the spring in the courtyard yonder;
Her eyes from their stain she purified,
And,—wonder!—
Her face and eyes were radiant and bright,
And the maid of the mill was disclosed to the sight
Of the startled and angry stripling!
THE MAID OF THE MILL.
Thou sweetest, fairest, dearly-loved life!
Before thine anger I cower;
But blows I dread not, nor sharp-edged knife,—
This hour
Of sorrow and love to thee I'll sing,
And myself before thy feet I'll fling,
And either live or die there!