  SERIOUS-minded little maid, Wondering and half afraid, Half inclined to speak with me, Half disposed to let me be; Hesitating yet, and shy, Half a twinkle in your eye, Half in doubt and half in fear, Staying neither far nor near. How I wonder what you see With those eyes that question me; What the instinct bids you know If I may be friend or foe; Fawnlike, full of grace and sweet, Ready with fast-flying feet In the orchard’s deepest shade To find cover, little maid. Grave and curious little lass, Like a wild bird in the grass, Still intently watching me, With your wings half spread, to see If my smile bodes good or ill, Willing to make friends and still Undecided if to stay Here and near or fly away. Serious-minded little maid, When, with smiles and unafraid, O’er the lawn you come to me, Stranger to you though I be, When your curious eyes have tried Soul with mine and, satisfied, Looked still into mine and smiled, Blessed am I, little child. Blessed am I to be just Worthy of your childish trust, More than conqueror of kings When the wild bird of your wings Bids you fly not forth but see Something tender, kind, in me; Oh, the gladness you have laid At my heart’s gate, little maid! |
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