. Midsummer Eve : a fairy tale of loving and being loved . ls never do, and Im a fool—a helpless fool! The bells inthe old gable rang all night—the hare bell, the silver bells of cuckoo-sorrel, and of the Indian Moss—I knew them all—the deep boom of theblue bell, and the soft note of my ladys rocket—I heard them ringingfrom moon-rise to moon-set, and yet I could not tell one word they said I only know the marriage bell will ring to-morrow ; and then she will •0 and I shall never see her more! My eyes are blinded, and the wholeworld grows dark. I am cast off and forgotten by Earth and Air. Poor
. Midsummer Eve : a fairy tale of loving and being loved . ls never do, and Im a fool—a helpless fool! The bells inthe old gable rang all night—the hare bell, the silver bells of cuckoo-sorrel, and of the Indian Moss—I knew them all—the deep boom of theblue bell, and the soft note of my ladys rocket—I heard them ringingfrom moon-rise to moon-set, and yet I could not tell one word they said I only know the marriage bell will ring to-morrow ; and then she will •0 and I shall never see her more! My eyes are blinded, and the wholeworld grows dark. I am cast off and forgotten by Earth and Air. Poorllandys thrown by; poor Randys forgotten. He repeated, Poorllandys forgotten, seve-ral times, in deep soitow,when a low sweet voicemurmured— Handy deserves to beforgotten when he losesFAITH ! The woodcutter turned to INCary, but shewas gone—gone without a word or a sign. Herambled a few steps in search of her; and paxisedin one of those quiet nooks, where stood thesolitary heron, heedless of his approach ; close at * i-:.- ^- *^- X;iiy^l^. A FAIRY TALE OF LOVE. 181 liis side was a white butterfly, sitting with folded wings ou the petals of apale wild rose. Why is it ? resumed the voice which endowed the insect for a time ;why is it that the sound of the bells of the old gable were no moreto you than to other mortals; that you, so long favoured, heard nothingbut the tinkling?—only because faith fainted in your bosom; even nowyour eyes are sealed, and, though you see the boat upon the lake you seenot that which guides and guards it. Unhappy mortals! the purestspiritings are clogged in the mire of your unrefined natures. Have I not,from her entering on this scene of mingled smiles and tears, been with her,and averted what she could not avoid ? Why should you doubt me now,and chill the air with tears ? Its asy talking with you, my lady, thought the woodcutter; youwho can be with her whenever you like; and. though only allowed yourown form, from sunset to sunrise,
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, bookidmidsummereve, bookyear1870
