FRANCE your country, as we know； Room enough for guessing yet, What lips now or long ago, Kissed and named you - Colinette. In what fields from sea to sea, By what stream your home was set, Loire or Seine was glad of thee, Marne or Rhone, O Colinette？

    Did you stand with 'maidens² ten, Fairer maids were never seen,' When the young king and his men Passed among the orchards³ green？ Nay⁴, old ballads⁵ have a note Mournful, we would fain forget； No such sad old air should float Round your young brows, Colinette.

    Say, did Ronsard sing to you, Shepherdess, to lull⁶ his pain, When the court went wandering through Rose pleasances of Touraine？ Ronsard and his famous Rose Long are dust the breezes fret⁷； You, within the garden close, You are blooming, Colinette.

    Have I seen you proud and gay, With a patched and perfumed beau, Dancing through the summer day, Misty⁸ summer of Watteau？ Nay, so sweet a maid as you Never walked a minuet With the splendid courtly crew； Nay, forgive me, Colinette.

    Not from Greuze's canvasses⁹ Do you cast a glance, a smile； You are not as one of these, Yours is beauty without guile¹⁰. Round your maiden¹ brows and hair Maidenhood¹¹ and Childhood met Crown and kiss you, sweet and fair, New art's blossom, Colinette.