I’ve seen her here before, the beauty Abileen,

With silken hair and laughing eyes, she plays with friends unseen,

And watching now again from behind a crooked tree,

She lifts her gaze until it lifts to me.

Oh what a treasure that has n’er before been seen,

This graceful gem whom I call Abileen,

A horse with auburn golden coats and quickness too,

She dances ‘cross meadows of grass hung high with dew.

And now I creep along a fence with fallen timber,

I catch my breath for fear of body’s hinder,

That this meeting in this field where daisies grow,

Should remain a memory my mind will never know.

Clouds drift across the purple morning sky,

No fear of my approach, she does not shy,

I touch her silken mane from where I stand,

She eats an apple from my trembling hand.