If you his route pursue." When she arrived at Bruges, She found her lover there, Training with the soldiers, With banners floating fair. "If I had known, my dear, You would have followed me, You would not have found me, For I'd have crossed the sea." "Am I not unhappy, To march so far to find The traitor, whom I love, And who is so unkind? "Nightingale that sings, And who hast flown so far, Tell me, tell me truly, Where other lovers are." But all the other lads Have sought for other brides, And taken for their spouses The sabres at their sides. The Veille des Noces gayly mocks the impatience of the young maiden for the dawn of her wedding day, which will not allow her to rest quiet in bed, or endure without reply the rebuke of her more contented mother:-- THE NIGHT BEFORE MY WEDDING. The night before my wedding, Guess what happened me. I rose up to the window, If daybreak I could see-- The dawn of day, The lovely dawn of day, Of light and love so gay. I rose up to my window, If daybreak I could see, The lovely moon still shining Was all that greeted me. The lovely moon still shining, Was all the sign of light. I thought it must be four o'clock, But 't was not yet midnight. I thought it must be four o'clock, But midnight had not sped. My mother, who was listening, Heard the cross words I said. My mother, who was listening, Heard the sad sighs I drew. "Be silent, little fool," she said, "Or God will punish you! "Be silent, little fool," she said, Or God will bring you loss." "O, mother dear, do you not know What't is that makes me cross? "O, mother dear, do you not know, What't is that gives me pain, You lie at ease, but I do not; I must get up again." There is also a flavor of mockery in the naïve dialogue between the shepherd, Joseph, and his mistress, whom he has come to waken in the morning, and to invite to spend the day with him on the mountain. The shepherdess wants to be assured of something more substantial than mere affection before she yields to the temptation. JOSEPH. Joseph, your faithful shepherd, Has come to waken you, Arise, my lovely maiden, My lovely maiden, rise-- The sun shines bright and new. Alas, my faithful shepherd, Whither shall we go? Above, upon the mountains Where shining streamlets flow, Where we will gather violets, And rosemary also. Alas, my faithful shepherd, What shall be our food? A pie of tender larks,