Fit theme for song, the sylvan maid
Who, if she knew not fauns or satyrs,
Had conjured oft in mossy shade
Visions of savage pale-face haters;
I trow she dined on pork and maize
In cabin, single-roomed and sooted,
Quite innocent of frills and stays,
Warm-hearted and bare-footed.
Her beauty surely brought her note,—...
Good people all, with one accord,
Lament for Madam Blaize;
Who never wanted a good word—
From those who spoke her praise.
The needy seldom passed her door,
And always found her kind;
She freely lent to all the poor—
Who left a pledge behind.
She strove the neighborhood to please,
With manner wondrous winning...
