That showeth seams of golden light,—
“Ah, open, darling, I implore”?
She could not help knowing ’twas Love, although they’d never met before.
She swiftly shot the iron bar,
And rolled the lucky stone away,
And careful set the door ajar—
“Now enter in, Sir Love, I pray;
My mother knows it not, but I have watched for you this many a day.”
With fan and roar of gloomy wings
They gave the door a windy shove;