Yet, sometimes, when, as at present, Spring is brightening all the land,
Comes that longing for the fields, SIR RUFUS cannot understand;
Comes a ghostly sort of doubt if e'en Society can give
All, quite all, for which a well-loved woman might desire to live;
Comes a memory of his voice, a recollection of his glance,
Thoughts of things which then had power to make my maiden pulses dance;
Comes,—but I'm extremely stupid. Well, I know if our dear FAN
Took a fancy for a poet, I should soon dismiss the man.
Here she comes! She'll wed, I hope, rich Viscount VIVIAN ere the fall.
She ne'er had had that chance, had I espoused the Lord of Locksley Hall!