Had struck some quay or bridge-foot stair!
That I may throw a paper out
As you and he go underneath.
There 's Zanze 's vigilant taper; safe are we.
Only one minute more to-night with me?
Resume your past self of a month ago!
Be you the bashful gallant, I will be
The lady with the colder breast than snow.
Now bow you, as becomes, nor touch my hand
More than I touch yours when I step to land,