But why ere the rite this long pause and delay?
’Tis for Colin they wait—
The ‘Light Lindsay’ is late:
The bridegroom forgetteth his own marriage-day!
The envoy was meet,
And the bridegroom is fleet,
He stands at the altar in bridal array:
But what lacks he now?
Why this cloud on his brow?—
The ring that should make her his countess for aye!