MAID! from a distant forest tree,
A verdant leaf is blown to thee;
And that green leaf has fixed it now,
In the green garland on thy brow:
The garland green, that we have bound,
Maiden! thy auburn ringlets round:
O no! it is no leaf, that we
Have braided in a wreath for thee;
’Tis the white hood that thou must wear,
The token of domestic care:
Thou hast no mother now—another,
A stranger must be called thy mother;
And sister-love thy heart must share,
With one who was not born thy brother.