My ramble finished, I returned.
Beau, trotting far before,
The floating wreath again discerned,
And, plunging, left the shore.
I saw him, with that lily cropped,
Impatient swim to meet
My quick approach, and soon he dropped
The treasure at my feet.
Charmed with this sight, the world, I cried,
Shall hear of this, thy deed: