With a foot as light as foam-clot
And a tender heart within her,
Takes that sad-eyed maiden gently
By the hand and gaily leads her,
Wins her to pick grapes in fancy,
Grapes of sunshine from the greensward,
Calls the Bluebird through her window
To sing its song within that dumb heart,
Fashions her a robe of linen,
Brings her moccasin of leather....”