MYSTERIOUS DOINGS

As once I rambled in the woods

I chanced to spy amid the brake

A huntsman ride his way beside

A fair and passing tranquil lake;

Though velvet bucks sped here and there,

He let them scamper through the green —

Not one smote he, but lustily

He blew his horn — what could it mean?

As on I strolled beside that lake,

A pretty maid I chanced to see

Fishing away for finny prey,

Yet not a single one caught she;

All round her boat the fishes leapt

And gambolled to their hearts’ content,

Yet never a thing did the maid but sing —

I wonder what on earth it meant.

As later yet I roamed my way,

A lovely steed neighed loud and long,

And an empty boat sped all afloat

Where sang a fishermaid her song;

All underneath the prudent shade,

Which yonder kindly willows threw,

Together strayed a youth and maid —

I can n't explain it all, can you?