We see her dancing in a ring,
And hear the blessed creature sing—
A creature full of gentleness,
Rejoicing in our happiness.’
Then pluck’d I a wreath with many a gem
Burning—a flowery diadem—
And through the wicket, with a glide
I slipped, and sat me down beside
The youngest of those infants fair,
And wreath’d the blossoms in her hair.