CORINNE.
Reading edition
Mild broke the morning, The meadows looked gay, The birds sweetly caroled The welcome of May; And blithely the girls played At ball on the green, But the sweetest, the fairest, Was little Corinne. At hoop and at rope She was first of the throng, And sweet as the lark Of the woodland her song; None who saw the curls fall O’er her forehead so fair, Could doubt the calm picture Of innocence there. Dance gaily along, Ever joyous and free, Less joyous and happy, Oh! ne’er may’st thou be; Young, artless, and lovely, Still bright be the scene, Ever blessed with thy presence, My pretty Corinne.
