The Secret
I know of a thrush’s nest, a pretty nest, a cosy nest,
I know of a thrush’s nest with three fine eggs of blue;
It is in the perfumed pine, the tasselled pine, the swaying pine,
It is in the cool dark wood that I have wandered through.
I know of a speckled trout, a noble trout, a shining trout,
I know of a splendid trout, the biggest I have seen;
It is by the lonely mill, the silent mill, the old spade mill,
It is in the running brook, for I did look and lean.
I know of a pretty maid, a laughing maid, a happy maid,
I know of a darling maid, oh, sweet she is and fair;
She waits in a garden bower, a rosy bower, a hidden bower,
What the way to this dear maid—is neither here nor there!
