Dispair was mark’d in Annette’s face
Which beam’d deep scarlet hue;
Where heav’nly innocence might trace,
A heart, both firm and true.
38
’Tis passing strange, Annette then sigh’d,
When Gerard reach’d the door;
But whose the Thief? the Magpie cry’d,
Annette, and said no more.
Verse [51]
39
’Tis laughable, old Gerard said,
And smiling as he spoke;
That Mag should call his fav’rite maid,
And well enjoy’d the joke.
40
It may be so, said Julianne too,
But ominous I wot;
But here’s the justice—out she flew.
And brought him to the spot.