Page:A Sheaf Gleaned in French Fields.djvu/337

304 Blue, like violets in a foss
 * Hemmed with moss,

Sparkle soft her innocent eyes, Frame-like her bonnet adds a grace
 * To a face

As calm and pure as summer skies!

Hair chestnut, hardly one may view
 * There a few

Light threads of silver mixed between: Thin flakes of snow what eye perceives
 * 'Mid the leaves

Of a vigorous tree and green?

She works beneath the lilac tree
 * Ceaselessly,

Her place is by the garden-gate, Swiftly her needle runs along,
 * While her song

Swells high and rich, and yet sedate.

And still attentive o'er her head
 * Branches spread,

As if to shield her and to bless, And thick they shower their blossoms down
 * On her gown,

To ornament her simple dress!