I know a maiden like a flower,
    (Flower-sweet, dainty-sweet!)
Sister to the wild rose
    And the wild marguerite.
 
Petal-soft are the lips of her,
    (Flower-sweet, dainty-sweet!)
And blue her eyes as the misty blue
    Where the dew and bluebells meet.
 
Her hands are light as the cherry blossom,
    (Flower-sweet, dainty-sweet!)
And never so light the wind on the grass
    As the lightness of her feet.