Back she came through the trembling dusk;
And her mother spoke and said:
"What is it makes you late to-day,
And why do you smile and sing as gay
As though you just were wed?"
"_Oh mother, my hen that never had chicks
Has hatched out six!_"
Back she came through the flaming dusk;
And her mother spoke and said:
"What gives your eyes that dancing light,
What makes your lips so strangely bright,
And why are your cheeks so red?"
"_Oh mother, the berries I ate in the lane
Have left a stain._"
Back she came through the faltering dusk;
And her mother spoke and said:
"You are weeping; your footstep is heavy with care--
What makes you totter and cling to the stair,
And why do you hang your head?"
"_Oh mother--oh mother--you never can know--
I loved him so!_"