At last they rode up to an inn:
"Good Mr. Host, pray who's within?"
"My daughter serves the customers,
Before the fire the Tom-cat purrs."
For further news they did not wait—
The mouse sprang through the garden-gate—
They fled without a look behind them.
The question is—Did Thomas find them?
SONGS FOR MUSIC
SERENADE.
I would not have you wake for me,
Fair lady, though I love you!
And though the night is warm, and all
The stars are out above you;
And though the dew's so light it could
Not hurt your little feet,
And nightingales in yonder wood
Are singing passing sweet.
Yet may my plaintive strain unite
And mingle with your dreaming,
And through the visions of the night
Just interweave my seeming.
Yet no! sleep on with fancy free
In that untroubled breast;
No song of mine, no thought of me,
Deserves to break your rest!