As only gallant natures do.
Our days passed by so quietly,
Love’s dream so rosy-hued had grown
That seasons glided by[8] ere we
Would note that e’en a month had flown.
Thus ran my girlhood and his youth,
Till came the naming of the happy day—
Our wedding day—that would in truth
Have made us man and wife for aye,
When, like a blow from one we love,