Eleanor Farjeon

“ So that the milkmaids stood embraced in meeting flowers, waist-deep in the orchard growth: all gowned in pink lawn with loose white sleeves, and their faces flushed it may have been with the pink linings to their white bonnets, or with the evening rose in the west, or with I know not what.
'Go away!' they cried at the intruder. 'Go away!'
'My rose-white maidens,' said Martin, 'will you not let me into your orchard? For the stars are rising with the dew, and the hour is at peace. ”

“ Blown in a ring round their own apple-bower
I saw a-floating.
Or was it my dream, my dream only–who knows?–
As frail as a snowflake, as flushed as a rose,
I saw a-floating?
A-floating, a-floating, what saw I a-floating?'
Martin sang, and the milkmaids danced, and Gillian in her prison only heard the dropping of her tears, and only saw the rainbow prisms on her lashes. But presently she laid her cheek against her hand, and missed a touch she knew; and on that revealed her lovely face so full of woe, that Martin needs must comfort her or weep himself. ”

“ Maids' memories are longer than men's. At all events, the milkmaids knew instantly to whom she referred, although nearly a month had passed since his coming.
'Has he his lute with him?' asked little Joan.
'He has. And he is giving cake to the ducks; they take it from his hand. Man, go away immediately!'
Martin Pippin propped his elbows on the little gate, and looked smiling into the orchard, all pink and white blossom. ”