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The Moor-Maiden - John Bliven Morin©2007 Hawaii USA
(based upon a German legend)
The village youths lightheartedly
Dance to the tabor and the flute,
Dance to the piper and the lute,
To celebrate Midsummer s Day.
Every lad with shining eyes
Looks upon each comely girl,
Looks at her with skirts a-whirl,
And he with longing, softly sighs.
But suddenly in their midst appears
A strange young maid with long, dark hair,
A strange young maid with features fair,
Far fairer than their village dears.
And all the young men gather round,
Hoping each to have a dance;
Hoping each to find romance,
To the music s sensuous sound.
The stranger takes in turn each lad,
Past the villagers she whirls;
Past the glowering of the girls,
Each lad, with love for her is mad.
And when the music begins to slow,
She chooses John from all the rest;
She chooses John who she likes best;
Holding hands, they lightly go
Away from the music and the play,
Through the fields and wooded bowers;
Through the meadows bright with flowers,
Leads she John Midsummer s Day.
And it s been many a year since then,
Since the Moor-Maid danced with John;
Since they danced and then were gone,
And John returned never again.
Out on the moors there is a spring;
If you look inside, they say,
If you look Midsummer s Day,
You ll see a young lad struggling;
Down, down, deep down inside,
Struggling, with silent scream;
Struggling as in a dream;
Forever there he must abide.
Copyright (C) 2007 by John Bliven Morin
