XLI. Her half-bared bosom rose and fell Like placid ocean’s gentle swell; Her glance like summer sunshine fell Upon my heart;— How could I else than act too well A lover’s part?
XLII. “Then you are solus, dearest maid,” She laughed outright, and blushing said, “Have you commenced the dearing trade So soon, fair lad?” This jeering banter, promptly paid, ’Most drove me mad.
XLIII. Till then I deemed myself, a man, And lord of every amorous plan, Now through my limbs a shiver ran,— The air grew chill; “Your cheeks,” said she “are thin and wan Pray, are you ill?”
XLIV. I smothered down a heavy sigh, And gayly made her this reply:— “If I were ill would you deny A cure for me?” “O, all I could,” said she, “I’d try To comfort thee.”
XLV. Such kind, endearing words as these Brought me almost upon my knees: “I’ve got” said I, “a sad disease Which you can cure, And set my aching heart at ease, Of this—be sure.”
XLVI. A sudden change subdued her look, The rosy blood her cheek forsook, She rose,—her silken hood she took, And looking in it, Said: “Please excuse me while I look Outside a minute.”
XLVII. A quiet respite now I got To stare about the room and plot; It was a neat though humble cot Of wooden frame; A home, it was devoted not To folly’s name.
XLVIII Here stood the huge-rimmed spinning wheel, There sat a tray of Indian meal, And overhead, like polished steel, A musket lay; A dog and puss together reel In frantic play.
XLIX. Thus peering round with random glance, I saw, or thought I saw, by chance, Three seeming deities advance, My soul alarming, But soon they caused my feelings dance With speeches charming.
L. The first began: “My name is Hope; To give thy fancy brighter scope I come,—no longer sit and mope With love concealed: If thou thy bosom fully ope The Nymph will yield.”