today is saturday!

a lovely saturday!

but nothing special!

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out on the hill-side yonder

the wind to rest is laid

under the drooping branches

there sits the little maid

she sits among the wild thyme

she sits in the fragrant sir

the blue flies hum around her

bright wings flash everywhere

and through the silent woodland

she peers with watchful eyes

while on her hazel ringlets

sparkles the glad sunshine

and far, far off the cuckoo,

laughs out his song i think

hers are the bright, the golden

eyes of the woodland queen

so she was not only his little sweetheart

by immensee