How many a tale their music tells,—
Of Yorkshire cakes and crumpets prime,
And letters only just in time!
The Muffin-boy has passed away,
The Postman gone—and I must pay,
For down below Deaf Mary dwells,
And does not hear those Evening Bells.[40]
And so 'twill be when she is gone,
That tuneful peal will still ring on,
And other maids with timely yells