📄 poem.txt
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The Pride of Youth
Proud Maisie is in the wood,
Walking so early;
Sweet Robin sits on the bush,
Singing so rarely.
"tell me, thou bonny bird,
when shall I marry me?"
"when six braw gentlemen
kirkward shall carry ye."
"who makes the bridal bed,
birdie, say truly?"
"The gray-headed sexton
That delves the grave duly."
"The glowworm o'er grave and stone
Shall light thee steady;
The owl from the steeple sing,
Welcome, proud lady."
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