Classic Poem

Where the alders girt a grassy
Leaf-embowered nook,
There I spied a cottage lassie
Washing by the brook.

Bright the wavelets glanced beside her,
Brighter was the look
That she gave to him who spied her
Washing by the brook.

Sweet the songs of birds around her, —
Songs from Nature's book;
Sweeter hers to him who found her
Washing by the brook.

Heaven bless her! heaven watch her!
Pride may overlook
But for graces never match her,
Washing by the brook.