Give a lazy "yes" or a sleepy "no."
Yet now and then Tabitha speaks,
Snapping her answer with yellow cheeks,
And fixing the Saint who is sitting by
With the fish-like glare of her glittering eye,
Whenever the looks of the weary man
Stray to the corner of Sister Anne.
Like a fountain in a shady place
Is the gleam of the sadly shining face—
A fresh spring whither the soul might turn,