The Dryad Poem by Roberto Ottoboni

She liveth in a tree, this beautiful mysterious sprite,
With golden hair that waveth like autumn leaves
And soulful eyes like elderberries bright.
She is the loveliest thing of everything that breathes
For to ME she hath given her heart of oak,
For to ME all her delicate words are spoke.

I sit me down under the tree where she lives
And bask awhile under its balmy shade,
O how I love the sweet kisses she gives,
O how I love this magical forest glade!
For to ME she hath given her love so rare,
For to ME she spreadeth the branches so fair.

The busy world doth mock and scorn at me
Because I spend all my days in her arms.
Ah the foolish ones, they only percieve a tree
But I see her wonderous charms,
For to ME she hath revealed her true spirit face,
For to ME she doth dance with infinite grace.