"In Paris?"
"No! They had sent me to the country, and there was a stream and some reeds. I could see them as I lay in bed, and so---- Now, mind, if once I begin to swear I won't leave off under half-a-crown!"
"I wouldn't mind giving three shillings if it were worth it; so go on, Tom, why should you be bashful?"
"Because I was delirious when I wrote it, of course," he replied; yet there was a real tremor in his voice, as he began:--
"Where the river's golden sheen floats by
The plumes of the tall reeds touch the sky,
Like arrows from out a quiver.
But one bends over to reach the stream,
Dreaming of naught but the golden gleam,
Weary for love of the river.
"'Oh, river! river! thou flowest fast;
Yet leave me one kiss as thou goest past--
One kiss, to be mine for ever!'