Mysterious doings

As once I rambled in the woods
 I chanced to spy amid the brake
A huntsman ride his way beside
 A fair and passing tranquil lake;
Though velvet bucks sped here and there,
 He let them scamper through the green--
Not one smote he, but lustily
 He blew his horn--what could it mean?

As on I strolled beside that lake,
 A pretty maid I chanced to see
Fishing away for finny prey,
 Yet not a single one caught she;
All round her boat the fishes leapt
 And gambolled to their hearts' content,
Yet never a thing did the maid but sing--
 I wonder what on earth it meant.

As later yet I roamed my way,
 A lovely steed neighed loud and long,
And an empty boat sped all afloat
 Where sang a fishermaid her song;
All underneath the prudent shade,
 Which yonder kindly willows threw,
Together strayed a youth and maid--
 I can't explain it all, can you?