| |
Translated by Louisa Stuart Costello
I. WHAT time his flock young Iann kept | |
| He little thought a priest to be, | |
| But gayly rose, and sweetly slept, | |
| Nor e’er of priest or monk dreamed he. | |
| Light was his heart, as oft he sung, | 5 |
| “The maid I love is fair and young!” | |
| |
| One morn his mother called him home. | |
| “This life will fit my son no more; | |
| Leave there the sheep, to Quimper come, | |
| And learn, at length, some better lore. | 10 |
| For you must study well and long, | |
| That I a priest my son may view, | |
| Forget at once each idle song,— | |
| Say to the fair young maids adieu.” | |
| |
II. The maids of all the land most fair, | 15 |
| Of beauty and of grace the flower, | |
| Who raised their heads the brightest there, | |
| Were daughters to the Lord of Naour. | |
| As shines the moon the stars above, | |
| They shone all majesty and love! | 20 |
| |
| A milk-white steed each maiden brought, | |
| Whose hoofs resounded on the way, | |
| When they the Pardon yearly sought, | |
| And at Pontaven came to pray. | |
| |
| Their kirtles green, of silk so rare, | 25 |
| With gold chains glittered as they moved,— | |
| None with the youngest might compare, | |
| And she, they said, young Iann loved. | |
| |
| “To gain my hand four suitors strove, | |
| And each was forced the vows to take, | 30 |
| But Iannik Flécher is my love, | |
| And I am dying for his sake!” | |
| |
III. Fair Geneviève was at her gate | |
| As Iann passed his vows to pay, | |
| Embroidering lace the damsel sate, | 35 |
| With glittering threads of silver gay, | |
| (The kerchief that she works so neat | |
| Were covering for a chalice meet!) | |
| |
| “Iann Flécher, list to me! | |
| Take not vows that fit thee not. | 40 |
| Is the past ’twixt me and thee | |
| And all promises forgot? | |
| All the tender words we said, | |
| All the faithful vows we made?” | |
| |
| “O, I dare not turn me now, | 45 |
| Dare not think upon the past, | |
| For the Church has claimed my vow, | |
| And the fatal lot is cast!” | |
| |
| “Thou the golden ring hast lost | |
| Given thee in the dance of yore?” | 50 |
| “No: the pledge I prized the most | |
| God has ta’en, ’t is mine no more!” | |
| |
| “O Iann Flécher! turn again; | |
| Take all the wealth I call my own, | |
| I ’ll follow thee through toil and pain, | 55 |
| I ’ll love, I ’ll live for thee alone! | |
| The coarsest clothes for thee I ’ll wear, | |
| For thee all hardships learn to bear, | |
| But say not I must lose thy love! | |
| Or, if I fail thy heart to move, | 60 |
| Come thou, a priest, beside my bed, | |
| And read the office for the dead.” | |
| |
| “O Geneviève! a mighty chain | |
| Has twined its fetters round my heart, | |
| O Geneviève! our tears are vain, | 65 |
| I am a priest and we must part!” | |
| |
IV. And now the young priest is professed, | |
| And as he passed the Manor hall, | |
| He said, while sorrow swelled his breast, | |
| “Hail! Lord of Rustéfan,—hail all! | 70 |
| Much joy on each may Heaven bestow, | |
| (More than my heart can ever know!) | |
| ’T is my first mass this morn, I say; | |
| Will any come to grace the day?” | |
| |
| “O yes, young priest, and thou shalt see | 75 |
| The first who offers shall be me: | |
| The plate shall twenty crowns receive, | |
| Ten more thy god-mother shall give, | |
| In honor of our pious priest | |
| Who follows thus the Lord’s behest.” | 80 |
| |
V. I strayed by Penn-al-Lenn that day, | |
| For I the mass was fain to hear, | |
| I saw the people in dismay, | |
| Come trooping fast with looks of fear; | |
| “Aged mother, wilt thou say | 85 |
| If the mass is done to-day?” | |
| |
| “He begun it, fair and well, | |
| But it is not ended yet, | |
| For his tears so fast they fell | |
| That his books of prayer were wet. | 90 |
| |
| “No: in vain to read he strove, | |
| Vainly tried to end the hymn, | |
| For his heart was torn with love, | |
| And his eyes with tears were dim. | |
| |
| “He would check their rising flood, | 95 |
| He would yet the words repeat, | |
| At the altar where he stood | |
| Geneviève is at his feet! | |
| |
| And she cried, in piercing tone, | |
| ‘For the love of God, forbear! | 100 |
| Iann! every hope is gone, | |
| And I perish in despair! | |
| Iann! thou hast caused my death, | |
| Take, O, take my dying breath!’” * * * * * | |
| Iann Flécher since that time | 105 |
| Is the rector of the town: | |
| I who made this mournful rhyme | |
| Oft have wandered up and down, | |
| By the church and by the vale | |
| Where I heard the fatal tale, | 110 |
| And have seen the young priest grieve | |
| O’er the grave of Geneviève: | |
| Years past on,—I went and came, | |
| But his tears flowed on the same! | |
| |
