 | A Day in the Woods |  |
56
THE VILLAGE MAID.
I met her in the blooming month
Of flower-laden Spring,
When budding trees were lightly robed,
And larks soared high to sing;
We wandered where the primrose grew
Deep in a silent glade,
And vowed that nought, save death, should part
Me and my village maid.
Of flower-laden Spring,
When budding trees were lightly robed,
And larks soared high to sing;
58
Deep in a silent glade,
And vowed that nought, save death, should part
Me and my village maid.
When Summer came, with laughing days,
And soft blue-hanging skies,
Which threw a gladness all around,
As did her softer eyes,
Again we sought the twilight woods,
Where hazels formed a shade;
The ring-dove and the singing brook
Pleased my sweet village maid.
And soft blue-hanging skies,
Which threw a gladness all around,
As did her softer eyes,
Again we sought the twilight woods,
Where hazels formed a shade;
The ring-dove and the singing brook
Pleased my sweet village maid.
When Autumn came, in solemn gold,
And yellow leaves were strown,
'Twas then death marked my village maid
Alas! to be his own.
I 'tended her, by night and day,
And when the sportsman strayed
Along the silent harvest fields,
Death smote my village maid.
And yellow leaves were strown,
'Twas then death marked my village maid
Alas! to be his own.
I 'tended her, by night and day,
And when the sportsman strayed
Along the silent harvest fields,
Death smote my village maid.
Now Winter's come, with hollow voice;
I hear the howling wind
Ring through the savage, naked woods,
All gloomy, like my mind.
Oh, Spring! come not again to me;
By her I would be laid,
For what are birds or flowers to me,
Without my village maid?
I hear the howling wind
Ring through the savage, naked woods,
All gloomy, like my mind.
59
By her I would be laid,
For what are birds or flowers to me,
Without my village maid?
| A Day in the Woods | |