I Remember a Maiden

 

I remember a maiden,
Her face invades my dreams.
Her hair was black as the midnight wave,
Her eyes were brown and her smile was grave,
And her skin was smooth as cream.

She lived among the mountains
In a cottage thatched with straw.
She was only a country maid
But her ways were the ways of a lady,
But her days are no more.

Shy as a bird in the thicket,
Her voice was as sweet as a thrush.
She scorned to visit the bustling town
But roamed the hills as the sun went down
And made the heavens blush!

Tender her touch and gentle
On her pony’s muzzle soft.
All the beasts of the field were her slaves,
And she queened it o’er all the braves
Of the farms and the crofts.

Thrilling larks in the cloudlands,
High in the brilliant sky:
The streamlet ripples in simple glee,
The breezes whisper through bush and tree,
But one day they will die!

She can no longer hear them,
Nor the birds, nor stream, nor breeze:
For they said she had passed in the night,
And I would I could follow her flight
To the place where she is.

I remember a maiden,
‘Tis many long years ago.
She made a radiance where’er she went,
And to the flowers a fragrance lent
Wherever they did grow.

Now there’s a twilight darkening
Since her sun has sunk to rest;
There was pain in my heart as it broke
For a word which I left unspoken
And which burns in my breast!

Sept. 1924 (set to music)