For the joy of its newness his heart shall feel,
Alack and alas! no more.
When the bright sun tippeth the hills with gold,
That rider upriseth gay,
And with hat all beribboned and heart that is bold,
Pursueth his jaunty way.
He gazeth at folks in the lowly crowd
With a most superior air.
He thinketh ha! ha! and he smileth aloud
As he masheth the maiden fair.