A fair head meekly bowed,
A shy glance coming after,
Voices not over loud,
And a low sweet laughter:
So is the story told
Up in the cottage old
Under the smoky rafter.
A fair maid flushing red
With an unknown feeling,
But shamed to bow her head
For all her lover's kneeling:
So is the story told
Down 'mid the white and gold
Under the painted ceiling.
