Up the hill I went, and gazed round,
	  Hoping golden maids to see;
	Trooping lovely maids came, who
	  Round the hill danced merrily.

	All the sweetest ditties singing,
	  Sweetest ditties that mgiht be;
	Bearing fragrant apple-blossoms,
	  These fair maidens came to me.

• Finns
• Slavs

HOME § TALES AND STORIES § POEMS § DICTIONARY
BALLADS § ART § WEB RESOURCES § WEB RINGS