She sang the heart out of his breast, The words out of his tongue; Hand and foot and pulse he paused Till her song was sung. Then he spoke up from his place Simple words and true: 90 'Scanty goods have I to give, Scanty skill to woo; But I have a will to work, And a heart for you: Bid me stay or bid me go.' Then Meggan mused within herself: 'Better be first with him, Than dwell where fairer Margaret sits, Who shines my brightness dim, For ever second where she sits, 100 However fair I be: I will be lady of his love, And he shall worship me; I will be lady of his herds And stoop to his degree, At home where kids and fatlings grow.' Sped a shepherd from the height Headlong down to look, (White lambs followed, lured by love Of their shepherd's crook): 110 He turned neither east nor west, Neither north nor south, But knelt right down to May, for love Of her sweet-singing mouth; Forgot his flocks, his panting flocks In parching hill-side drouth; Forgot himself for weal or woe. Trilled her song and swelled her song With maiden coy caprice In a labyrinth of throbs, 120 Pauses, cadences; Clear-noted as a dropping brook, Soft-noted like the bees, Wild-noted as the shivering wind Forlorn through forest trees: Love-noted like the wood-pigeon Who hides herself for love, Yet cannot keep her secret safe, But coos and coos thereof: Thus the notes rang loud or low. 130 He hung breathless on her breath; Speechless, who listened well; Could not speak or think or wish Till silence broke the spell. Then he spoke, and spread his hands, Pointing here and there: 'See my sheep and see the lambs, Twin lambs which they bare. All myself I offer you, All my flocks and care, 140 Your sweet song hath moved me so.' In her fluttered heart young May Mused a dubious while: 'If he loves me as he says'-- Her lips curved with a smile: 'Where Margaret shines like the sun I shine but like a moon; If sister Meggan makes her choice I can make mine as soon; At cockcrow we were sister-maids, 150 We may be brides at noon.' Said Meggan, 'Yes;' May said not 'No.' Fair Margaret stayed alone at home, Awhile she sang her song, Awhile sat silent, then she thought: 'My sisters loiter long.' That sultry noon had waned away, Shadows had waxen great: 'Surely,' she thought within herself, 'My sisters loiter late.' 160 She rose, and peered out at the door, With patient heart to wait, And heard a distant nightingale Complaining of its mate; Then down the garden slope she walked, Down to the garden gate, Leaned on the rail and waited so.