Then the darling danced down a flowery path,
Still singing her song so sweet,
With hawthorn branches on either hand,
And crocuses under feet.
And she found a beautiful blue-eyed prince
Asleep in a thicket dim,
Caught in a bramble-rose which grew
By magic over him.
Thro' the leaves and roses she scarce could see
His head with its flaxen curls,