BRETON SONE.
"Not to Rouen, not to Paris, go I, friend, with thee.
What among the folk of the High Country should I see?
Treacherous ice, whereon one slips and falls, they say to me.
"Only to the mortuary I my steps will bend;
To the village mortuary with thee will I wend,
And behold the bones; for one day we must die, my friend.
"Bare of fleshly garb, the bones lie there, by day and night.
Where is now their skin so soft, and where their hands so white?
Where their souls? oh! where, my friend? In darkness or in light?
"Ah friend! when the preachers preach, you laugh at what they say.
'In this life you will dance? Ah! well, so in the next you may.
There's a hall prepared below for dancers mad and gay.
'Carpeted with points of steel, where barefoot dancers fly,
Lit with fiery prongs which demons brandish, as they cry,
Dance, young man! to dances and to pardons who would'st hie.'"
"Silence, maiden! mock me not, but give me love for love;
Take me for thy spouse; our life shall sweet and joyful prove.
Henceforth pardons nor the dance my spirit e'er shall move."
"Not fifteen was I, my friend, when to the church I went.
'Leave the world,' my angel whispered, 'leave its discontent.
To the veil and cloistered life henceforth thy will be bent.'
"Girl, forget thy convent dream; believe and marry me.
Safer, stronger than the convent walls my care shall be.
With a sheltering love, sweet maid, will I encompass thee."
"Youth, not so; but let thy heart toward another lean;
Let some fairer maid from me thy fond affection wean;
Twere an easy task; good looks are thine, and portly mien."[138]