I saw a Maiden Sweet and Fair

I SAW a maiden sweet and fair

Of an ancient wand’ring nation,

Her simple garb the signs did bear

Of poor and humble station.

Knew she some other clime but late,

This meek and gentle maiden?

Methought I marked her people’s fate,

On her black tresses laden.

I looked into her great dark eyes,

Demure and sparkling tender;

They gazed serene as May-day skies,

In calm and cloudless splendor.

Yet oft some inner mood would cast

A sadness o’er her glances,

As flits a swallow’s shadow past

A brook where sunlight dances.