In holland brown she stands to greet
Me as I come adown the street,
The sunlight falling on her hair
Leaves warm caresses gently there—
A picture with true grace replete!

The roses twining round her feet
Breathe gentle fragrance rare and sweet,
She sings a merry rustic air—
In holland brown.

O years that fly so swift and fleet!
O storms that 'gainst her window beat!
Keep her from harm and tears and care!
That future years may find her where
In days of June we used to meet,
In holland brown.

Fortnight, 1886.