Who passes in the sunlight
    By ways that know the light footfall?
Who passes in the sweet sunlight
    With mien so virginal?

The ways of all the woodland
    Gleam with a soft and golden fire—
For whom does all the sunny woodland
    Carry so brave attire?

O, it is for my true love
    The woods their rich apparel wear—
O, it is for my own true love,
    That is so young and fair.