Along a meadow stray;
Alone she went—unchecked—untold—
Her home not far away.
She gazed around on earth and sky—
Now paused, and now proceeded;
Hill, valley, wood,—she passed them by,
Unmarked, perchance unheeded.
And now gay groups of roses bright,
In circling thickets bound her—
Yet on she went with footsteps light,