Without a veil I saw her stand Upon the calm lake's pebbled strand; The day was hot, the sun was bright And kissed with evident delight Her rosy cheeks—already tanned— With freedom I would fain command; She seemed a nymph of summer-land— A sylvan goddess robed in white Without a vale. She little knew the "coup" I 'd planned! She smiled, her flossy tresses fanned By fragrant winds in playful flight; But when I spoke, with gay despite She told me I had sought her hand Without avail. |