A MAID sat by her cottage door,
When flowers were fair and Spring was young;
There came a knight the green wold o'er,
And thus to her his song he sung:
" I speak yet once, and speak no more.
"I pleaded many a time to thee,
When flowers were fair and Spring was young;
I loved thee truly and tenderly;
Thy silence cold my heart hath wrung,
Yet still thou hast a slave in me."
She answered him with laughter light,
When flowers were fair and Spring was young:
"I'll love thee some day, gallant knight;
It may be short, it may be long, -
Love hath a strange, uncertain flight."
A maid sits by her cottage door,
The flowers are dead, the Spring hath gone;
There comes no knight the green wold o'er;
She sits and sings her song alone,
For love hath fled, and youth 's no more.
WEST.
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