The Greybeard

I HEARD young Falisava say: “I’ll have no ancient greybeard, nay! A sprightly beardless youth for me.” An aged man the maiden heard, He shaves his long and snowy beard, And paints his chin like ebony: To Falisava then he goes— “My heart! my soul! my garden rose! A beardless youth is come for thee.” And then she listen’d—they were wed— And to the old man’s home they sped.

Then twilight came, and evening’s shade— And said the old man to the maid: “Sweet Falisava! maiden fair! Our bed beside the stove prepare, And the warm feather-mattress bear”— The maiden heard—the maiden went, And gather’d flowers of sweetest scent— Of sweetest scent and fairest hue, Which on the old man’s bed she threw, And like a strong-wing’d eagle then Flew to her father’s home again.