Now, the first moment Hy-son saw the gardener—
A gardener, by his tools and dress she knew—
She felt her bosom round her heart in a—
A—just as if her heart was breaking through;
And so she blush’d, and hoped that he would pardon her
Intruding on his grounds—“so nice they grew!—
Such roses! what a pink!—and then that peony;
Might she die if she ever look’d to see any!”
The gardener offer’d her a budding rose:
She took it with a smile, and colour’d high;