Whole weeks and months, early and late,
To win his love I lay in wait.
Oh, the Earl was fair to see,
As fair as any man could be:—
The wind is howling in turret and tree!
We two shall be wed to-morrow morn,
And I shall be the Lady Clare,
And when my marriage morn shall fall
I hardly know what I shall wear.
But I shan't say 'my life is dreary,'