Sister to the Wild Rose

I know a maiden like a flower, (Flower-sweet, dainty sweet!) Sister to the wild rose And the wild marguerite.

Petal-soft are the lips of her, (Flower-sweet, dainty-sweet!) And blue her eyes as the misty blue Where the dew and the blue-bells meet.

Light her hands as the cherry blossom, (Flower-sweet, dainty-sweet!) And never so light the wind on the grass As the lightness of her feet.