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?