Now you may revel as free as air,
Caress without stint and kiss without care,—
No longer of footfall affrighted.
Now you are licensed, wherever you go,
To the rapture of cooing and billing;
Now you have leisure love’s seed to sow,
Water, and tend it, and make it grow;—
Let us see you’ve a talent for tilling!
Miss Jay [within].
Ah Lind, if I only had chanced to hear,