Hath gone—it reposes upon her soft lip;
Thy music, sweet dove, now no more thou'lt prolong!
Oh, list to my love now! she's stolen thy song.
"Mr. Seddon, the young lady will be persuaded that you are a twin brother to the troubadour," said the Professor.
"And now, Charley," said Toney, "we are waiting to hear you warble."
The Professor sang:
Come hasten with me, love,
Come hasten away!
Come haste to yon lea, love,
Where flow'rets so gay