“I wish such luck may me betide!”
So saying, from the bags he started,
While through his brain vague fancies darted,
And with a brisker air and gait
He left the mill to seek his Kate,
The golden vision to relate.
At eve, before the cottage-door,
They talk’d the wondrous story o’er;
And every time it was repeated,
With warmer hope Whang’s brain was heated.