Belisent, my cousin—O, so proud
Of her young love with old wounds pale—
A Virginian girl! God bless her pride—
Of a crippled Mosby-man the bride!”
“Four wall shall mend that saucy mood,
And moping prisons tame him down”
Said Captain Cloud. “God help that day”
Cried Captain Morn, “and he so young.
But hark, he sings—a madcap one”
“O we multiply merrily in the May,