My apple-gold maidens," said Martin Pippin, leaning on the gate in
the bright night, "may I come into your orchard?"

As he addressed them he gazed with delight at the enclosure. By the
light of the Queen Moon, now at her full in heaven, he saw that the
orchard grass was clipped, and patterned with small clover, but
against the hedges rose wild banks of meadow-sweet and yarrow and
the jolly ragwort, and briony with its heart-shaped leaf and berry
as red as heart's-blood made a bower above them all. And all the
apple-trees were decked with little golden moons hanging in clusters
on the drooping boughs, and glimmering in the recesses of the
leaves. Under each tree a ring of windfalls lay in the grass. But
prettiest sight of all was the ring of girls in yellow gowns and
caps, that lay around the midmost apple-tree like fallen fruit.

"Dear maidens," pleaded the Minstrel, "let me come in."

At the sound of his voice the six milkmaids rose up in the grass
like golden fountains. And fountains indeed they were, for their
eyes were running over with tears.

"We did not hear you coming," said little Joan.

"Go away at once!" commanded Joscelyn.

Then all the girls cried "Go away!" together.

"My apple-gold maidens," said Martin Pippin, "I entreat you to let
me in. For the moon is up, and it is time to be sleeping or waking,
in sweet company. So I beseech you to admit me, dear maidens--if