We met upon the stepping stones,
She blushed and looked at me;
The river turned its short, sharp moans
Into sweet melody.
I heard the music in my heart,
I said, 'Sweet maid, I find
That I will have to turn again,
And let you come behind.'
Thereat she hung her dainty head,
The river's melody
Grew sweeter, and methought it said,
'The maid will follow thee.'
I turned upon the stepping stone,
The maiden came behind;
She whispered in her sweetest tone,
'Dear sir, but you are kind.'
'Nay, nay,' I said, and took her hand;
'But shall I turn again,
Or wait until a tender band
Be bound about us twain?'
She hung her head, then, blushing, said,
'Dear sir, but you are kind;
If you will cross the stepping stones,
I will not stay behind.'