Venevil (From Arne)

(See Note)     Fair Venevil hastened with tripping feet         Her lover to meet.     He sang, so it rang o'er the church far away:         "Good-day! Good-day!"     And all the little birds sang right merrily their lay:         "Midsummer Day         Brings us laughter and play;     But later know I little, if she twines her wreath so gay!"     She twined him a wreath of the flowers blue:         "My eyes for you!"     He tossed it and caught it and to her did bend:         "Good-by, my friend!"     And loudly he exulted at the field's far distant end:         "Midsummer Day         Brings us laughter and play;     But later know I little, if she twines her wreath so gay!"     She twined him a wreath: "Do at all you care         For my golden hair?"     She twined one, and gave in life's hour so rare         Her red lips' pair;     He took them and he pressed them, and he blushed as she did there.     She twined one all white as a lily-band:         "'T is my right hand."     She twined one blood-red, with her love in each strand:         "'T is my left hand."     He took them both and kept them both, but would not understand.     She twined of the flowers that bloomed around         "Every one I found!"     She gathered and twined, while tears would her eyes fill:         "Take them you will!"     In silence then he took them, but to flight he turned him still.     She twined one so large, of discordant hue:         "My bride's-wreath true!"     She twined it and twined, till her fingers were sore:         "Crown me, I implore!"     But when she turned, he was not there, she never saw him more.     She twined yet undaunted without a stay         At her bride's-array.     But now it was long past the Midsummer Day,         All the flowers away:     She twined it of the flowers, though they all were now away!         "Midsummer Day         Brings us laughter and play;     But later know I little, if she twines her wreath so gay!"