And whispers softly in her ear a vow,
Swearing that he will love her then as now.
“Heigho!” she sighs,—then in half-smother’d tones
Consents, and so,—goes off with Sergeant Jones.
* * * * *
From tent to tent the impatient Jenkins flies;—
“Where is Eliza?” he despairing cries.
Eliza’s name through all the camp he calls,—
“Eliza!” echoes through the canvas walls.
Swift gains he the canteen. What horror’s here,