She came among the gathering crowd,A maiden fair, without pretence,
And when they asked her humble name,She whispered mildly, "Common Sense."
Her modest garb drew every eye,Her ample cloak, her shoes of leather,—
And when they sneered, she simply said,"I dress according to the weather."
They argued long, and reasoned loud,In dubious Hindoo phrase mysterious,
While she, poor child, could not divineWhy girls so young should be so serious.