That they had plagu’d a sleepy one,
Yet screaming in their happy laughter,
Lest I should up, and follow after.
LXXIX.
I could not stir—I heard them run,
Two rosy children, full of fun:
And now I knew the bright blue eye,
The ruddy lip that kiss’d me nigh,
The voice that woke, the flaxy curl,
Were all a dear beloved girl,