Should'st thou find in thy travels a maid that is free,
And content to love nought in the wide world but thee;
With a face that is gentle--be 't dark or be 't fair;
And a brow that ne'er ceases good-temper to wear;
With a soul like a rosebud that's not yet unfurled--
All strange to the tricks and the ways of the world;
And a mind that would blush at its fanciful roam,
Should it dream there are spheres more delightful than home,
With a love that would love thee alone for thy sake
In bonds which adversity never could break.
Should'st thou find such a treasure--then unlock thy heart,
And place the bright gem in its innermost part;
Watch over it tenderly--love it with pride;
And gratefully crown it thy heaven-sent bride.