But it was she that rul'd the roost;[1]
Until by proof, she did confess,
If he were gone, her joy was lost.
And then she cried, "Oh, dainty love,
I now do find it is for thee,
That I am lov'd and honour'd both,
And thou hast power to conquer me."
But, when I heard her yield to love,
Oh! how my heart did leap for joy!
That now I had some little hope