The Fair-Hair’d Maid Poem by Robert Anderson

When wearied bees with laden thighs
Humm'd, slowly wheeling tow'rds their cell;
When eve's blue mists began to rise,
And all was silence in the dell:
Where Eden's streams are heard afar,
And willows weave a shade,
I left the town, rejoic'd to meet
My blooming, smiling, fair--hair'd Maid.

I gaz'd, but feign'd a woe--worn look--
``My Mary, dear!'' I sigh'd ``Adieu!
To--morrow in the badge of war,
I leave thee to some one more true!''
In vain she tried her grief to hide,
I saw her colour fade;
She sunk, a lily at my feet,
The faithful, tender, fair--hair'd Maid.

Anxious, I saw her soon revive,
And clasp'd her to my panting heart;
``This falsehood, Mary, O forgive!
And mark the tear love bids to start:
To--morrow wilt thou be my own?''
``Ah! canst thou doubt?'' she said,
We hail'd the long--wish'd happy hour--
She's mine, the matchless fair--hair'd Maid!