Timidity

Lo! upon the mountain green Stands a fir tree tall and thin— ’Tis no fir tree—none at all— ’Tis a maiden thin and tall. Three long years the enamour’d one Fed upon her eyes alone; On the fourth, he sought the bliss Of the maiden’s primal kiss: “Why, thou witching maid! repel me— Why with foot of scorn dost tread, On my feet, my boots of red! Why despise me, maiden! tell me.”

“No, my friend, I will not tread On thy feet, thy boots of red! Come at evening—come and string Pearls for me—and thou shalt fling O’er me my embroider’d shawl. We will go at morning’s call To the Kolo—Friend! but thou Must not touch the maiden now— Know’st thou not that busy slander Follows us where’er we wander? Evil tongues are ever talking; Calumny abroad is walking. Know’st thou that a simple kiss Ample food for slander is? ‘Never did we kiss,’ you’ll say, ‘Till last evening and to-day.’ Come at evening—come my dear! Sisters’ eyes will watch thee here.”