Page:Bohemian legends and other poems.djvu/55



There was a virtuous lady,
 * Who had daughters three to marry;

With two of them she went to church,
 * For the third she would not tarry.

The girl laughed loud, and dressed her hair,
 * For she had a mind to marry.

She thought in our little garden
 * There are plenty of roses fair;

I will make them into a wreath;
 * A beautiful wreath, I will wear.

Said a tall young man, passing by,
 * Maid, give me the wreath from your hair.”

The wreath’s not for you, tall young man,
 * I wait for a nobler than you.”

And she wandered amidst the flowers,
 * The roses of many hue.

Said a bold young man, passing by,
 * Maid, give me the wreath from your hair.”

The wreath’s not for you, bold young man,
 * I wait for a nobler than you.”

And she smiled a wicked wee smile,
 * A smile that to her was not new.

Said a dark young man, riding by,
 * Maid, give me the wreath from your hair.”