Classic Poem

A YOUTH beside a maiden strayed
Within the woodland's changing shade.
‘I love her!’ cried the eager boy;
The maiden's bosom felt no joy
At this confession.—Loves her?—who?
He loves another? is it true?
They were companions free to rove,
But never had they spoke of love;
And fancy heard
Each building bird
Sing, O he loves another!

The lovely maiden's cheek turns pale
Before the raptured lover's tale,
She marks what he confides to her,
She looks on him, the worshipper
Of some strange beauty, who perchance
Hath won him by a word or glance,
And all the maiden's hopes fall dead,
As on her bosom droops her head,
While fancy heard
Each building bird
Sing O he loves another!

Love triumphed o'er the time and place,
The maiden with averted face
Stooped for a violet on the ground,
While tears her secret sorrow found.
‘Pardon this trial,’ cried the youth—
‘It is yourself I love in truth.
I did this but to prove your love,
‘Henceforth as friends no more we rove.’
The maiden heard
Each building bird
Sing, me! he loves none other.