The gardener offer’d her a budding rose:
She took it with a smile, and colour’d high;
While, as she gave its fragrance to her nose,
He took the opportunity to sigh.
And Hy-son’s cheek blush’d like the daylight’s close!
She glanced around to see that none were nigh,
Then sigh’d again and thought, “Although a peasant,
His manners are refined, and really pleasant.”
They stood each looking in the other’s eyes,
Till Hy-son dropp’d her gaze, and then—good lack