Nature, that's niggard in me, has denied
The after-birth of love there 's some one claims,
—This huge boy, swinging up the avenue;
And I want counsel: is defect in me,
Or him who has no right to raise the love?
My cousin asks my hand: he's young enough,
Handsome,—my maid thinks,—manly's more the word:
He asked my leave to 'drop' the elm-tree there,
Some morning before breakfast. Gentleness
Goes with the strength, of course. He's honest too,