What tales could it tell, if possessing a speech,

That little low room where I courted my wife,

That little low room where I courted my wife.

Warm vows has it heard, the warmest e’er spoke,

Where lips have met lips in holy embrace,

Where feelings that never to utterance woke,

It saw oft reveal’d in a duplicate face;

The sweet hours hasten’d, how quickly they flew,

With fervent devotion and ecstasy rife!

Our hearts throbb’d the hours, but how I ne’er knew,