Close to the maiden’s face,
Wi’ loof o’er e’en, he earnestly
Perused each simple grace.
He saw her face was fair and round,
Her lips like a large rose-leaf;
And her snow-white teeth so even showed,
Like ivory from their sheath.
There stood a tear in her dove-blue eye,
Her eye so mild and meek,
A large tear slowly left the lid,