Her slave alone, again he’d mount the board;
With her should years of growing love be spent,
And growing wealth; - she sigh’d and look’d consent.
Now, through the lane, up hill, and ’cross the green:
(Seen by but few, and blushing to be seen -
Dejected, thoughtful, anxious, and afraid,)
Led by the lover, walk’d the silent maid;
Slow through the meadows roved they, many a mile,
Toy’d by each bank, and trifled at each stile;
Where, as he painted every blissful view,