To Sai

You chase the blue butterflies, The shining dew is shaken by your feet, That are white in the young grasses; Swift, you hesitate, poised; And they elude you; fluttering In the windless gold.

Sai 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. Sai is quite close to me; now she has gone She has forgotten me.

Sai 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.

In ermine furs and cramasie, Heigh-ho, the bitter winds blow! A duffle cloak will shelter me: I saw three shepherds out in the snow.

The kings have stooped to Mary's hem, Heigh-ho, the bitter winds blow! But her eyes travel away from them: I saw three shepherds out in the snow.

What gifts have we to bring the Lord? Heigh-ho, the bitter winds blow! Neither a sceptre, nor a sword: I saw three shepherds out in the snow.

We bring no gifts but milk and cheese: Heigh-ho, the bitter winds blow! And a fleece of wool for Mary's knees: I saw three shepherds out in the snow.

Nor myrrh, nor frankincense, nor gold: Heigh-ho, the bitter winds blow! But a fleece to shield Him from the cold: I saw three shepherds out in the snow.

Down miry ways, tho' storms be wild, Heigh-ho, the bitter winds blow! A warm soft fleece for a naked child: I saw three shepherds out in the snow.

Now Mary turns her face to sleep: Heigh-ho, the bitter winds blow! While we go back to tend our sheep: I saw three shepherds out in the snow.

The sparks fly from the crackling thorn, Heigh-ho, the bitter winds blow! Our God was in a stable born: I saw three shepherds out in the snow.

Tho' three wise kings rode from the east, Heigh-ho, the bitter winds blow! He was born between an ass and beast: I saw three shepherds out in the snow.

I saw no trail of starry light, Heigh-ho, the bitter winds blow! I heard a child wail in the night: I saw three shepherds out in the snow!