outright, she scorn'd him quite,
She fill'd her Russet Pitcher;--
For that dear sight an anchorite
Might deem himself the richer.
Ill-fated maiden! go thy ways,
Thy lover's vows are lither,
The brightest dream of youth decays,
The fairest roses wither.
* * * * *
These days are soon the days of yore;
Six summers pass, and then
That musing man would see once more
The fountain in the glen.
Again to stray where once he stray'd,
Those woods with verdure richer;
Half hoping to espy the maid
Come tripping with her pitcher.
No light step comes, but, evil-starr'd,
He finds a mournful token,--
There lies a Russet Pitcher marr'd,
The damsel's pitcher broken!
Profoundly moved, that muser cried:
The spoiler hath been hither;
O! would the maiden first had died,--
The fairest rose must wither!
The tender flow'ret blooms apace,
But chilling winds blow o'er;
It fades unheeded, and its place
Shall never know it more.
He turn'd from that accursed ground,
His world-worn bosom throbbing;
A bow-shot thence a child he found,--
The little man was sobbing.
He gently stroked that curly head,--
"My child, what brings thee hither?
Weep not, my simple child," he said,
"Or let us weep together.
Thy world, I ween, my child, is green,
As garden undefil'd,
Thy thoughts should run on mirth and fun,--
Where dost thou dwell, my child?"
'Twas then the tiny urchin spoke,--
"My daddy's Giles the ditcher;
I water fetch, and, oh! I've broke
My mammy's Russet Pitcher!"
THE ENCHANTED ROSE
"O where dost thou trip it," the patriarch said,
"A Rose in thy bosom so daintily laid?
A pilgrim, whose shadow extends to the tomb,
Would gaze on its beauty, would breathe its perfume!"
"O raise not thy hand," cried the maid, "nor suppose
I ever can part with this beautiful Rose;
The bloom is a gift of the fays, who declare it
Will shield me from sorrow as long as I wear it.
And sigh not, old man, such a doleful 'heigh-ho,'
Dost think I possess not the will to say, 'No'?
And shake not thy head, I could pitiless be
Should supplicants come even younger than thee."
The damsel pass'd on with a confident smile,
The old man extended his walk for a while,
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