The Maiden Fair

The wind does whisper through the fair green woods
Where ever the violets do grow
And forth went a maiden to gather said bloom
Where breezes gently do blow
Skipping she went fair as a rose
Off to a vale she while singing
There she found to heart’s delight
The beauty of purple blossoming
And back home again to weave with her flowers
To make lovely crown for her hair
The vale left behind sighed in pleasure
As off went the maiden fair


This was supposed to be a kind of folk-song for one of my stories. I don't think it's very good.

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