“Make ready! make ready,”
To his sister the youth is repeating;
“Make ready my steed for the wedding,
O sister! the young Doge [231] is waiting:
I’m bid to the wedding, I’m summon’d to guide
To the wedding the maiden—the Doge’s young bride.”

APPROACHING BRIDEGROOM.

What is shining on the verdant mountain?
Sun—or moon—so beautifully shining?
’Tis not sun, or moon that shines so brightly,
’Tis the bridegroom [232] hasting to the marriage.

PARTING OF THE BRIDE.

Sweetest of maidens! O be still,
Be silent—prithee weep not now,
Thy mother she will weep—wilt fill
Her sorrowing eyes with tears, for thou
Wilt leave thy cherish’d home ere long:
And when thy young companions go
To the fresh stream, amidst the throng
She’ll seek thee—will she find thee? No!

DEPARTURE OF THE WEDDING GUESTS.

O thou young bridegroom, thou rose in its beauty,
Lo! we have brought thee a rosemary branch;
And if the rosemary branch should decay,
Thine will the shame be, the sorrow be ours.
Scatter the rosemary leaves o’er thy way;
Let not destruction disparage its flowers.

TO THE BRIDE, WHEN THE MARRIAGE HOOD [233] IS FIRST PUT ON.

Maid! from a distant forest tree,
A verdant leaf is blown to thee;
And that green leaf has fixed it now,
In the green garland on thy brow:
The garland green, that we have bound,
Maiden! thy auburn ringlets round:
O no! it is no leaf, that we
Have braided in a wreath for thee;
’Tis the white hood that thou must wear,
The token of domestic care:
Thou hast no mother now—another,
A stranger must be called thy mother;
And sister-love thy heart must share,
With one who was not born thy brother.

AT THE MARRIAGE.

An apple tree at Ranko’s door was growing,
Its trunk was silver, golden were its branches;
Its branches golden, and of pearls its foliage,
Its leaves were pearls, and all its apples corals.
And many dovelets, on the branches seated,
Coo’d in their fond affection to each other;
Coo’d loudly, and they pluck’d the pearls—one, only
One, only one was silent, one was silent—
It coo’d not, pluck’d no pearls from off the branches:
That one was terrified by Ranko’s mother:
“Begone—gray dovelet! thou art an intruder!
Was not the apple-tree by Ranko planted?
By Ranko planted, and by Ranko watered,
That it might shade the guests at Ranko’s marriage,
Shade all his guests beneath its joyous branches.”

THE END.