Then, again, was the Amy of Locksley Hall quite as shallow-hearted and so forth as the angry rhymester declares? It will probably turn out that she was not. Hence the verses should run in this fashion:—
And I said, "My Cousin AMY, speak the truth, my heart to ease.
Shall it be by banns or license?" And she whispered, "Which you please."
Love took up the glass of Time and waved it gaily in the air,
Married life was sweet at Number Twenty-Six in Camden Square.
AMY faithless! Bless your heart, Sir, that was not the case at all:
It was pure imagination that I wrote in Locksley Hall.
This process will doubtless have to be applied to many of the poems, but we must leave the congenial task to the Laureate.
