A tiny patch on either cheek just where the dimple
played;
The little shoe I noticed too, and clocks, I am afraid.
The music ceased. I led her softly smiling to the door.
A pause, a rustling courtesy down almost to the floor,
And Tabitha, sweet Tabitha, mine eyes beheld no more.
I've trod in many measures since with widow, wife, and
maid,
In every kind of satin, silk, and spangled lace arrayed,
And through it all have heard the fall of Tabitha's