Your whims are free. Though I must blame you dear
If other times you even hide and listen,
And though my gay-heart Hero yesterday,
Who clambered up the tree, were sternly scolded
Had not a bough, for all her lightsome limb,
Swift-snapping dealt her punishment enough,
Being over-weak for such a weight of wonder——
Hero.
O Queen, and if it verily caught your eyes
You’ll know as well it was the thickest one