Still now and then that bright eye from its tail would glance up to the mountains,
And a faint sigh be the echo of Tarboxes glowin’ soft sawder;
Oft in her pail of ablution he’d catch her a rinsin’ the water;
And once she ventured to murmur, “I wonder what nateral goold’s like.”
—Down came the moment at last—set Tarbox a-mendin’ his shoe-sole,
Breathin’ his love in a Sonnet, and chawin’ a plug of tobaccer—
Entered the maiden so stately—and bowin’ her beauty before him,
Smilingly, sobbingly uttered, “Adoo—I am off for the diggins!”
* * * * *
Burst the full heart of Great Tarbox——