Fades the sunset's ruddy light,
While the birds amid the tree-tops
Softly chirp their sweet "Good-night."
Where the elm trees' spreading branches
Hide the streamlets with their shades,
Stands the fair-faced, blue-eyed Dolly,
Flower of all the village maids,—
Looking, in the growing twilight,
Towards the grassy fields ahead,
Listening still, with eye expectant,