Three Summers since I chose a maid,Too young maybe - but more's to doAt harvest-time than bide and woo.
Three Summers it's been now, three years since I married the little maid. There was not time enough for courtship or to win her love; there's enough to do on a farm with the animals and crops without wasting time netting a lady who'll stand by and watch me work without mucking in herself. No sir! I don't have time to waste.
This girl... not picked for me, but neither did I take long to pick her. She had little choice in the matter; she was the prettiest of the whole lot, it was no hard choice.
Was she too young for me to take her? I can't regret it now, even if I wanted to.
I hope. I hope.
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