She sat, and sang, and on her needle beat
The rhythmic hum of her soft, flowing song;
And ever and anon, with sound so sweet,
Would pause a moment, as if to prolong
The bliss of that which did her soul employ.
A humble song, of humble peasant joy.
The rhythmic hum of her soft, flowing song;
And ever and anon, with sound so sweet,
Would pause a moment, as if to prolong
The bliss of that which did her soul employ.
A humble song, of humble peasant joy.