O sweet maiden, so fair and retiring,
At the corner I’m waiting for you;
And I’m scratching my head, and inquiring
What on earth it were best I should do.
Oh! the maiden, so handsome and coy,
For a pledge gave a slim rosy reed.
Than the reed is she brighter, my joy;
On her loveliness how my thoughts feed!
In the pastures a _t’e_ blade she sought,
And she gave it, so elegant, rare.
Oh! the grass does not dwell in my thought,
But the donor, more elegant, fair.