XXV. I hurried on, ’twas wearing late, With soft caresses in my pate; I reached my charmer’s cottage gate, But here I halted; My grit, like some old pewter plate, Was tried—and melted.
XXVI. I felt a weakness at the knee, Large drops were running warm and free Like rillets hasting to the sea— Adown my cheeks, I called on Heaven to pity me,— He finds who seeks.
XXVII. My prayer was answered by a strain Which fell, like magic on my pain; The songstress was my peerless Jane, Her voice I knew; The words on memory’s leaves remain Like honey dew.
Song. 1 A little bird of plumage gay Sat singing in a myrtle tree; What think you did the birdie say? What said it, love, to you and me?
2 It said be happy in the light Of love’s young morn, when love is truth; Be happy ere has taken flight The witchery of dreaming youth.
3 An owlet sat at close of day Too-hoo-ing in a linden tree; What think you did the owlet say? What said it, love, to you and me?
4 It said, be wise ere comes the night Of lone repining, keep your truth, Be wise and wed ere takes its flight The witchery of dreaming youth.
XXVIII. The song had ceased; again I started, So resolute, so joyous-hearted, No earthly power could then have thwarted My steps from Jane; A little laughing Cupid darted From vein to vein.
XXIX. Thus, marching forward to the door, “O Jane, dear Jane,” I muttered o’er, “For thee, my love, I’d venture more Than did Leander In swimming to his Hero’s shore A fearless gander!”
XXX. I gained the porch, one victory that,— A moment paused, and lightly sat My fashionable Sunday hat Upon three hairs; I rapped, my heart went pit-a-pat, With all my airs.