Another, smaller than the rest,
Sighed, “Love, love,” o’er and o’er.
And one said, “Pity my sad plight!”
So Curtius’ passion pleaded all the night.
Eulalia waking in the morn,
Large-eyed, sat up in bed,
While vows the tend’rest that be sworn
Still whispered in her head;—
A dreamy bliss her soul possessed,—
She rang for Betty; and before she dressed,