"My mother says I must not pass Too near that glass; She is afraid that I will see A little witch that looks like me, With a red, red mouth to whisper low The very thing I should not know!"
"Alack for all your mother's care! A bird of the air, A wistful wind,or (I suppose Sent by some hapless boy) a rose, With breath too sweet, will whisper low The very thing you should not know!"
