THE DEVIL’S BRIDE.
A BOHEMIAN BALLAD.
There was a virtuous lady,
Who had daughters three to marry;
With two of them she went to church,
For the third she would not tarry.
The girl laughed loud, and dressed her hair,
For she had a mind to marry.
She thought in our little garden
There are plenty of roses fair;
I will make them into a wreath;
A beautiful wreath, I will wear.
Said a tall young man, passing by,
“Maid, give me the wreath from your hair.”
“The wreath’s not for you, tall young man,
I wait for a nobler than you.”
And she wandered amidst the flowers,
The roses of many hue.
Said a bold young man, passing by,
“Maid, give me the wreath from your hair.”
“The wreath’s not for you, bold young man,
I wait for a nobler than you.”
And she smiled a wicked wee smile,
A smile that to her was not new.
Said a dark young man, riding by,
“Maid, give me the wreath from your hair.”
