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FOLK-SONGS OF LOWER BRITTANY.
I see my sweet beneath the shadowed nave, As the lily fair, and as the red gold brave.
A cambric cap upon her head sets well, Which cost, at least, six ecus for an ell.
And underneath a fine coiffure of lace, That like a lily's margin frames her face.
Her petticoat, so rounded and so gay, Shines with a double silver cord's display.
A robe she wears as red as any coal, And, oh, I love her in my inmost soul.
— Put money in your pocket, little fool, And to Treguier take your way to school.
Go to Treguier, and there study well, Become a priest and follow the church bell.
— Keep your money in your own purse for me, For, by my faith, no priest nor monk I '11 be.
My books throw in the fire, and let them burn, Or give them to my brother in his turn.
No priest or monk I ever shall be made, My heart demands the love of a fair maid.
A lovely maid of Cornouaille, I ween, With eyes of blue and locks of amber sheen.
And if I cannot have that golden head, Prepare the mass, for soon I shall be dead.