And bending back her head, looked up,
And gazed upon my face.
’Twas partly love, and partly fear,
And partly ’twas a bashful art,
That I might rather feel, than see,
The swelling of her heart.
I calmed her fears, and she was calm.
And told her love with virgin pride;
And so I won my Genevieve,
My bright and beauteous Bride.