From a little maiden passing, a sweet laugh methought I heard.
“She has found it,” I repeated, “there’s no use for any key.”
Said the pretty little damsel, “My heart’s open, don’t you see?”
Yes, I saw, and there were treasures such as kings would love to own,
Who would sacrifice to gain them e’en a jeweled crown and throne—
Buds and blossoms, song and laughter, humming-birds and butterflies,
Singing brooks and sparkling fountains there, and peaceful were the skies.
But the poem it was missing; so I journeyed slow along,
Till I heard a mother singing to her babe a cradle song;
And I tried to get permission in her heart to fit the key,