Weave in no bloom of subtle smell;
The simple ones she loves too well.
Let violets on her neck lie shining,
Wild rose in her hair.
And bring her rose-winged fancies,
From shadowy shoals of dream,
To clothe her in the wistful hour,
When girlhood steals from bud to flower.
Bring her the tunes of elfin dances,
Bring her the faery Gleam!