Something like Consent.
"Leave me, or take me and my horse;
I've told thee truth, and all I know:
Truth should breed truth; that comes of course;
If I sow wheat, why wheat will grow."
"Yes, Abner, but thus soon to yield,
Neighbours would fleer, and look behind 'em;
Though, with a husband in the field,
Perhaps, indeed, I should not mind 'em.
"I've known your generous nature well,
My first denial cost me dear;
How this may end we cannot tell,
But, as for Bayard, bring him here."
Parting of the Lovers.—Sad News.
"Bless thee for that," the plowman cried,
At once both starting from the seat,
He stood a guardian by her side,
But talk'd of home,—'twas growing late.
Then step for step within his arm,
She cheer'd him down the dewy way;
And no two birds upon the farm
E'er prated with more joy than they.
What news at home? The smile he wore
One little sentence turn'd to sorrow;
An order met him at the door.
"Take Bayard to the dogs to-morrow."
The Journey renewed.
Yes, yes, thought he; and heav'd a sigh,
Die when he will he's not your debtor:
I must obey, and he must die,—
That's if I can't contrive it better.