To meet with the blue sky over our head
Shaded by delicate blossoms of may?
Little reck'd I whom I happened to meet,
That I had a lover I never guess'd,
As I danc'd along with my careless feet,
And the heart of a child within my breast.
I had seen him a dozen times before,
With a pleasure that brought no sudden change;
I knew that he lik'd me—but nothing more:
O Harry! to think of it is so strange!