In the dear fount, and met th’ admiring glance
So loved—But no! our happier boy admired,
Not the slim form, but what the form attired—
The riband, shirt, and frill, all pure and clean,
The white ribb’d stockings, and the coat of green.
The Lady now appear’d to move away—
And this was threat’ning; for he dared not stay, 340
Lost and alone; but earnestly he pray’d—
“Oh! do not leave me—I am not afraid,
But ’tis so lonesome; I shall never find