IX.

Thoughtfully stood Mariline, Whitely veiled, and soul-serene; Love's fair world for her demesne, Never looked she more a queen—

With her maidens by her side, Smiling on the coming bride.

Her pet lamb, with comic mirth, Licked her hand and scampered forth; The fine sheep-dog, on the hearth, Kindly eyed her for her worth.