Page:Thirty poems (IA thirtypoems00bryarich).pdf/141

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SELLA.
135
But said no word in answer, nor refrainedFrom those mysterious wanderings that filledTheir loving hearts with a perpetual pain. And now the younger sister, fair and shy,Had grown to early womanhood, and oneWho loved her well had wooed her for his bride,And she had named the wedding day. The herdHad given its fatlings for the marriage feast;The roadside garden and the secret glenWere rifled of their sweetest flowers to twineThe door posts, and to lie among the locksOf maids, the wedding guests, and from the boughsOf mountain orchards had the fairest fruitBeen plucked to glisten in the canisters.Then, trooping over hill and valley, cameMatron and maid, grave men and smiling youths,Like swallows gathering for their autumn flight.
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