THE WOLF AND THE LAMB
She had hair gold as her father's corn;
She tripped and sung,
Like to a little lamb new-born,
So gay, so young.
She gathered lone in the long day's shade,
So soft, so shy,
Ripe berries red, poor little maid—
And he came by.
He loved youth well, and her years were few,
Was he ever young?
A cold heart hid 'neath his eyes stone blue,
And a honeyed tongue.
He loved gold hair, and her tresses strayed
Like the pale sunrise,
And a gentle gaze, poor little maid—
She had sweet eyes.
He rode all lone with his horse and hound,
Now his hunting done.
With his chin on breast and his eyes on ground
In the setting sun.
She gathered there in the long day's shade
Ripe fruit all red,
And life was good, poor little maid,
She sung and said.
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