The wind in the trees :: :: University of Virginia Library

As I roamed out one morning,
The stars were in the sky;
But Chanticleer his warning
Had flung it low and high.
The little birds were talking,
The mountains yet were gray,
When Colleen Dhas came walking
At dawning of the day.

Her feet outvied the daisies,
Her hair outshone the sun;
Her beauty, like the Graces,
Did join all sweets in one.

Her eyes like twin-stars married,
Her breath of new-mown hay;
A milking-pail she carried
At dawning of the day.

Now, are you tender Hebe?
Or may be Juno bright?
Your name it might be Phœbe,
That robs the sun of light.
Or are you lovely Venus
That close beside me stray?
With the milking-pail between us
At dawning of the day.

Young man, she said, don't flatter,
Your glance is bold and free;
No stranger's praise will matter
To virtuous maids like me.

Pray go where you were going,
I take the other way;
And I hear my Crummy lowing
At dawning of the day.

Upon a bench of rushes
Alone I sat and heard
Her voice outsing the thrushes
And every wakening bird.
I heard the sweet milk spirting,
The hedge between us lay,
And I longed that we were courting
At dawning of the day.