And it chanced a little maiden was walking out that day,
And they met—in the usual way.
Then he sat down beside her, and an hour or two went by,
But still upon the grassy brink his rod and line did lie;
“I thought,” she shyly whispered, “you’d be fishing all the day!”
And he was—in the usual way.
So he gravely took his rod in hand and threw the line about,
But the fish perceived distinctly he was not looking out;
And he said, “Sweetheart, I love you,” but she said she could not stay,
But she did—in the usual way.