The Forest Maid

I love to see the forest maid
Go in the pleasant day,
And jump to break an idle bough,
To drive the flies away.

Her face is brown with open air,
And like the lily blooming;
But beauty, whether brown or fair,
Is always found with women!

She stoop'd to tie her pattens up,
And show'd a cleanly stocking;
The flowers made curtsies all the way,
Against her ancles knocking.

She stoop'd to get the foxglove bells
That grew among the bushes,
And, careless, set her basket down,
And tied them up with rushes.

Her face was ever in a smile,
And brown, and softly blooming;—
I often met the scorn of man,
But welcome lives with woman!
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