Suddenly I stopped, for somewhere I heard a faint melody, the voice of a girl singing. ’Twas that voice I would know among ten thousand, the only one in all the world for me. I pulled up my horse and listened as the notes grew clearer, and this was what she sang: "First shall the heavens want starry light, The seas be robbèd of their waves; The day want sun, the sun want bright, The night want shade, and dead men graves; The April, flowers and leaf and tree, Before I false my faith to thee. To thee, to thee." There came a pause, and then again, in the fragrant gloaming, the air went on: "First shall the tops of highest hills By humble plains be overpry’d; And poets scorn the Muses’ quills, And fish forsake the water-glide; And Iris lose her coloured weed Before I fail thee at thy need." I stood in shadow and watched her as she came in sight, sauntering up the little, green glade, with a basket of spring flowers swinging on her arm. Her hat of white satin hung loose over her hair, and as she walked lightly, now in the twilight, now in a sudden shaft of the western sun, she looked fairer than aught I had ever seen. Once more she sang with her clear voice: "First direful Hate shall turn to Peace, And Love relent in deep disdain; And Death his fatal stroke shall cease, And Envy pity every pain; And Pleasure mourn, and Sorrow smile, Before I talk of any guile." But now the darkness had come in good earnest, and I could scarce see the singer. "First Time shall stay," the voice went on: "First Time shall stay his stayless race, And Winter bless his brows with corn; And snow bemoisten July’s face, And Winter, Spring and Summer mourn." Here the verse stopped short, for I stepped out and stood before her. "Oh, you have come back," she cried. "At last, and I have looked so long for you." "Indeed, dear lass, I have come back, and by God’s grace to go no more away." Then leading my horse, I walked by her side down the broad path to the house. We spoke nothing, our hearts being too busy with the delights of each other’s presence. The crowning stone was added to my palace of joy, and in that moment it seemed as if earth could contain no more of happiness, and that all the sorrows of the past were well worth encountering for the ecstasy of the present. To be once more in my own land, with my own solemn hills looking down upon me, and that fair river wandering by wood and heather, and my lady at my side, was not that sufficient for any man? The purple, airy dark, odorous with spring scents, clung around us, and in the pauses of silence the place was so still that our ears heard naught save the drawing of our breath. At the lawn of Dawyck I stopped and took her hands in mine.