Classic Poem

The sweet country maiden she gets up betimes,
Taking her kids to feed out on the grass,—
On the grass, on the grass,—ah! the sly little lass,
Her eyes make me follow with mine as they pass;
I am sure they'd make day in the middle of night.

Then she goes, the first thing, to the fountain hard by,
Treading the turf with her fresh naked feet,—
Naked feet, naked feet,—O so light and so sweet,
Through the thyme and the myrtles they go so complete,
And she makes up a lap, which she fills full of flowers.

Then she tucks up her sleeve to wash her sweet face,
And her hands, and her legs, and her bosom so white,—
Her bosom so white,—with a gentle delight;
I never beheld such a beautiful sight,
It makes the place smile, wheresoever it turns.

And sometimes she sings a rustical song,
Which makes the kids dance, and the sheep also—
The sheep also,—they hark, and they go;
The goats with the kids, all so merrily O!
You would think they all tried to see who could dance best.

And sometimes, upon a green meadow, I've seen her
Make little garlands of beautiful flowers,—
O, most beautiful flowers,—which lasTher for hours,
And the great ladies make them for their paramours,
But all of them learn from my sweet country lass.

And then in the evening she goes home to bed,
Bare-footed, and loos'ning her laces and things,—
Her laces and things,—and she laughs and she sings,
And leaps all the banks with one of her springs;
And thus my sweet maiden she passes her time