A fair dark-eyed lassie was she,
Her thirteenth summer passed,
Who pursuing blue-eyed daisy,
Herself had over-tasked;
And fell asleep in the meadow,
Where the wildest flowers blow.
I read the dreams upon her face.
Through dimples in her cheek,
And smiles which trace the subtle grace
Of innocence asleep.
'I was dreaming,' she made reply,
A blush her whole physique,
When my kerchief fell upon the fly
That lit upon her cheek;
Hard by the laughing brooklet's sheen
Caught the poise of her face between,
Demurring pout and sly grimace,
Through her dishelved hair;
As she stood there an angel fair
With innocence awake.