At exactly fifteen minutes to eight
His step was heard at the garden gate.
And then, with heart that was light and gay,
He laughed to himself in a jubilant way,
And rang the bell for the maiden trim
Who'd promised to go to the play with him;
And told the servant, with joyous air,
To say there were fifteen minutes to spare.
And then for fifteen minutes he sat
In the parlor dim, and he held his hat,
And waited and sighed for the maiden trim
Who'd promised to go to the play with him,
Until, as the clock overhead struck eight,
He muttered: "Great Scott! it is getting late";
And took a turn on the parlor floor,
And waited for fifteen minutes more;
And thought of those seats in the front parquet.
And midnight came, and the break of day;
That day and the next, and the next one, too,
He sat and waited the long hours through.