Maiming

“ CYRIL, HILARION, and FLORIAN
HILARION. I am a maiden, cold and stately, Heartless I, with face divine. What do I want with a heart, innately? Every heart I meet is mine! Every heart I meet is mine! ALL. Haughty, humble, coy, or free, Little care I what maid may be. So that a maid is fair to see, Ev'ry maid is the maid for me! Dance.
CYRIL. I am a maiden, frank and simple, Brimming with joyous roguery; Merriment lurks in ev'ry dimple Nobody breaks more hearts than I! Nobody breaks more hearts than I! ”

“ Yet life and death
May hang upon a maid's "heigho!"
When maiden loves, she mopes apart,
As owl mopes on a tree;
Although she keenly feels the smart,
She cannot tell what ails her heart,
With its sad "Ah me!" ”

“ O take the ring—for thou and thine Are hated,—not by me—but mine— Father and mother will not hear thee Brother and sister both forswear thee Yet, think not, youth,—I think not ill Of her who needs must love thee still! I am a poor unhappy maid, Whose path the darkest clouds o'ershade, I sowed sweet basil, and there grew On that same spot the bitterest rue And wormwood, that unholy flower, I now alone my marriage dower; The only flower which they shall wear Who to the maiden's marriage comes, When for my marriage altar there The guests shall find the maiden's tomb. ”

“ WOULD you know the kind of maid
⁠Sets my heart a flame-a?
Eyes must be downcast and staid,
Cheeks must flush for shame-a!
She may neither dance nor sing,
But, demure in everything,
Hang her head in modest way,
With pouting lips that seem to say
"Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me,
Though I die of shame-a,"
Please you, that's the kind of maid
Sets my heart a flame-a!
When a maid is bold and gay
With a tongue goes clang-a,
Flaunting it in brave array,
Maiden may go hang-a! ”

“ When thy heart burst in joy as I own'd thee for mine? Alas! for the maiden whose peace is betray'd By the tears and the vows of a falsehood like thine! As the changeable sky—now o'erclouded, now bright, Is the faith of thy race—their language to-day, "I will wed thee to-morrow, my love and my light!" To-morrow—"Let's wait till the harvest's away." The harvest is ended, the winter is nigh And another maid dwells in their hearts and their eye. S. J. B. LXXVII MAIDEN'S AFFECTION
"Black is the night—an outcast lad Is wandering in our village, mother! ”

“ Left everything to keep, one night,
A small appointment.
And are you sure the girl you love—
This maid on whom you have your heart set
Is lowly—that she is not of
The Roman smart set?
A maiden modest as is she,
So full of sweetness and forbearance,
Must be all right; her folks must be
Delightful parents. ”

“ Comes the cheated maid—
Though the tempest lower,
Rain and cloud will fade!
Take, O maid, these posies:
Though thy beauty rare
Shame the blushing roses,
They are passing fair!
Wear the flowers till they fade;
Happy be thy life, O maid!
O'er the season vernal,
Time may cast a shade;
Sunshine, if eternal,
Makes the roses fade:
Time may do his duty;
Let the thief alone—
Winter hath a beauty
That is all his own.
Fairest days are sun and shade:
Happy be thy life, O maid! ”

“ The anxious thought disturbs my brain— Whose shall the maiden be? My mother says, "The shepherd, maid! The shepherd, maid! for thee." Nay, mother, nay! not he, not he; That were no happiness for me: He wanders through the distant glade Where wolves and perils be.
O sleep! sweet sleep! in vain, in vain I bid thee visit me: The anxious thought disturbs my brain— Whose shall the maiden be? My mother says, "The tradesman, dear! The tradesman, dear! for thee." Nay, mother, nay! not he, not he; That were no happiness for me: He is a wanderer far and near, His house no home may be. ”

“ THE BEWILDER'D MAID.
SLOW broke the light and sweet breath'd the more,
When a maiden I saw sitting under a thorn,
Her dark hair hung loose on her bare neck of snow
⁠Her eyes look'd bewilder'd her cheek pale with woe. ”

“ Daily he goes for to wail—for to weep—
(Hey, but he's wretched as a youth can be!)
SHE.
She's very thin and she's very pale—
(Hey, but she sickens as the days go by!)
Daily she goes for to weep—for to wail—
(Hey, but I think that little maid will die!)
BOTH.
Now tell me pray, and tell me true,
What in the world should the poor soul do?
SHE.
If I were the youth I should offer her my name—
(Hey, but her face is a sight for to see!)
HE.
If I were the maid I should feed his honest flame—
(Hey, but he's bashful as a youth can be!) ”

“ Lovers would gayly wander neath my protecting boughs,
And into the ear of my silence would whisper holy vows."
O fair and beautiful Maiden,
O pure and winsome Maiden,
O grand and peerless Maiden, created to adore!
When no love came to woo thee that won thy own love-treasure,
When never a heart came to thee thy own heart-wealth could measure,
What didst thou then, Maiden? Didst smile as thou smilest now,
With ne'er the kiss of a lover upon thy snow-white brow? ”

“ Many strange things have I seen in my journey through this life, but the strangest of all, I think, my friend, is a maid. One mind to-day; another to-morrow. I had as lieve try to account for the storm, as to say what a lady would do to-day or to-morrow. I cannot say what the maiden will do—perhaps she will marry Dunraven, but this much I repeat, deep down in her heart she loves thee. ”

“ The development of the maiden is like the opening of some lovely flower-bud. As life unfolds, the tender smile and blush of childhood mingle with the grace of maidenly repose; the upturned, radiant eye gathers new depths of thought and emotion ”

“ When with neglect, the lovers' bane,
Poor maids rewarded be
For their love lost, their only gain
Is but a wreath from thee.
And underneath thy cooling shade,
When weary of the light,
The love-spent youth and love-sick maid
Come to weep out the night.
Robert Herrick. 1591-1674
268. The Mad Maid's Song
GOOD-MORROW to the day so fair,
Good-morning, sir, to you;
Good-morrow to mine own torn hair
Bedabbled with the dew.
Good-morning to this primrose too,
Good-morrow to each maid
That will with flowers the tomb bestrew
Wherein my love is laid.
Ah! woe is me, woe, woe is me! ”

“ The lovely lady smiled, and laid A wreath upon the maiden's brow; "Wear it, 'twill blossom soon," she said, "Although 'tis leafless now." The little maiden older grew And wandered forth of moonlight eves, And sighed and loved as maids will do; When, lo! her wreath bore leaves. Then was our maid a wife, and hung Upon a joyful bridegroom's bosom; When from the garland's leaves there sprung Fair store of blossom. And presently a baby fair Upon her gentle breast she reared; When midst the wreath that bound her hair Rich golden fruit appeared. ”

“ Ah, young maids, you look upon me as who should say, that I am an old woman from whom such words are strange to you. They be fit only for a young lass’s lips, forsooth? Childre, you wis not yet that the hot love of youth is nought to be compared to the yearning love of age,—that the maid that loveth a man whom she first met a month since cannot bear the rushlight unto her that has shrined him in her heart for thirty years. ”

“ And she might hear the shepherd breathe, Yes! thou shalt be my maiden now! The shepherd—'midst his fleecy drove, Goes like a moon the stars above." S. J. B. XXVI ASSIGNATION
Maiden! let us share each other's kisses! Tell me, tell me, where shall be our meeting, In thy garden, or in mine, sweet maiden? Under thine, or under my green rose-tree; Thou shalt be a rose, my gentle angel: I to a fond butterfly will change me, Everlastingly o'er thee to flutter— On thy flowers untired I will suspend me, Living blest upon mine own love's kisses. ”

“ Lovely thou art, O Dawn! As a maiden, who wakes, Opening eyes on a world Filled with wonder and light, After a sleep of dreams. Issuing, clad in a robe Of blue, and silver, and green. From the tents of God in the east Comest thou; as a thought Slippeth into the mind Of a maid, awakened from sleep, By the swallows, under the eaves, Twittering to their young ”

“ A tripping maid means just a young one.”
“What is a maid?”
“A little girl.”
“When a maid grows up, what is she?”
“Why she's a maiden, I suppose.”
“When a maiden grows up, what is she?”
“Just a woman, Sue.”
“What is saintly feet?”
“Feet like those of Eldress Abby or Elder Gray; feet of people who have always tried to do right.”
“Are Brother Ansel's feet saintly?” ”

“ The maid that loves, Goes out to sea upon a shatter'd plank, And puts her trust in miracles for safety. Where shall I sigh?—where pour out my complaint? He that should hear, should succour, should redress, He is the source of all. ”

“ The maid, half-yielding, half-refusing, by doubt and trust in turn possessed, bent over the fair-eyed beast recumbent at her side, and stroked its smoking flanks, and played with the garlands now displaced and torn, and sought with pliant fingers to renew a labor which might conceal the passion new-born, struggling in her breast. ”

“ When thus the maid began, My sire
⁠Our passion disapproves,
He bids me wed Sir John the Graeme,
⁠So here must end our loves.
My father’s will must be obey’d.
⁠Nought boots me to withstand;
Some fairer maid in beauty’s bloom,
⁠Shall bless thee with her hand. ”

“ Young maidens raised to them eyes full of admiration; they, selecting the maiden most beautiful, answered with jests, as if no care weighed on them, sending kisses, or exclaiming, “Embrace me before death does!” ”

“ Nay, you shall have your comfort, and you shall take it at the lips of any of a hundred maids. There is no choice for you. Why, no mysteries may trouble you. You have but a straight course to saunter by, without so much as blinking at the sun. Marry your maid then, and take your comfort in God's name. ”

“ I sing, dear maid, and sing for thee!
ODE LXXI. With twenty chords my lyre is hung,
And while I wake them all for thee,
Thou, O maiden, wild and young,
Disportest in airy levity.
The nursling fawn, that in some shade
Its antlered mother leaves behind,
Is not more wantonly afraid,
More timid of the rustling wind!
ODE LXXII. Fare thee well, perfidious maid,
My soul, too long on earth delayed,
Delayed, perfidious girl, by thee,
Is on the wing for liberty.
I fly to seek a kindlier sphere,
Since thou hast ceased to love me here! ”

“ In that period of their lives, on the point, so grave for their sex, of becoming maids, they are assailed by unaccountable fears, by a vague sense of sadness, by an imperious demand for solitude where to give a loose rein to languorous reveries, novel sensations at which their chaste instincts take alarm, symptoms of the awakening of the virginal heart, first and shadowy aspirations of the maid for the sweet pleasures and austere duties of the wife and mother—the sacred destinies of woman. ”

“ But, indeed, you to think thatwise of the maid that you did love; and all the world to be thinking each these thoughts of one dear maiden that doth be the one maid in all the round world.
And this to be the lovely niceness of the human heart; and I not to have any grumble thereat; but yet, surely, you shall say that this Maid that did be Mine Own, did be very dear and lovely. And, in verity, I to show my human heart in this thing; for you likewise to want that I think your Maid to have been just so dear, and the more so. And indeed we ever to be going these ways ”

“ Its paths are soft to tender feet,
Stay in the baby-world my sweet!
My little maid, my little maid,
You grow too old, I am afraid,
Your tender face it seems to me,
Is filled full of expectancy.
A spirit questioning, and wise
Looks out at me from your dark eyes,
Till I am fain to hold you fast
And hide you while old Time goes past.{198}
Stay in the baby-world so new,
Its flowers are drowning in the dew,
Its paths are soft to tender feet,
Stay in the baby-world my sweet!
My little maid, my little maid,
You grow too old, I am afraid,
Five years! ”

“ Ye saw him at morning, how gallant and gay!
In bridal adorning, the star of the day;
Now, weep for the lover—his triumph is sped,
His hope it is over! the chieftain is dead!
But, O! for the maiden who mourns for that chief,
With heart overladen and rending with grief!
She sinks on the meadow—in one morning-tide,
A wife and a widow, a maid and a bride!
Ye maidens attending, forbear to condole!
Your comfort is rending the depths of her soul:
True—true, 'twas a story for ages of pride ”

“ Surpris’d, he sees new beauties rise, 85 Swift mantling to the view; Like colours o’er the morning skies, As bright, as transient too. The bashful look, the rising breast, Alternate spread alarms: 90 The lovely stranger stands confess’d A maid in all her charms. ‘And, ah! forgive a stranger rude, A wretch forlorn,’ she cried; ‘Whose feet unhallow’d thus intrude 95 Where heaven and you reside. ‘But let a maid thy pity share, Whom love has taught to stray; Who seeks for rest, but finds despair Companion of her way. ”

“ Now with her empty can the maiden turned away;
But ere ten yards were gone her footsteps did she stay.
Towards the Lamb she looked; and from that shady place
I unobserved could see the workings of her face;
If nature to her tongue could measured numbers bring,
Thus, thought I, to her Lamb that little maid might sing!
What ails thee, young one? what? why pull so at thy cord? ”

“ The maidens of to-day are not so beautiful as the maidens were when our young senses could drink in their beauty; the St. Michael pears have died out; the blight has got possession of the roses. When we married, a white one climbed up the house-side and thrust its snowy sprays in at the casement of the wedding-chamber. ”