For, while they all were travelling home, Cried Betty, "Tell us, Johnny, do, Where all this long night you have been, What you have heard, what you have And, Johnny, mind you tell us true." Now Johnny all night long had heard And thus, to Betty's question, he Made answer, like a Traveller bold, (His very words I give to you,) seen, "The Cocks did crow to-whoo, to-whoo, And the Sun did shine so cold." -Thus answered Johnny in his glory, And that was all his travel's story. LOVE. All Thoughts, all Passions, all Delights, Whatever stirs this mortal Frame, All are but ministers of Love, And feed his sacred flame. Oft in my waking dreams do I When midway on the Mount I lay The Moonshine stealing o'er the scene Had blended with the Lights of Eve; And she was there, my Hope, my Joy, My own dear Genevieve! She leaned against the Armed Man, She stood and listened to my Harp Few Sorrows hath she of her own, I played a soft and doleful Air, The Ruin wild and hoary. She listened with a flitting Blush, With downcast Eyes and modest Grace; For well she knew, I could not choose But gaze upon her Face. I told her of the Knight; that wore I told her, how he pin'd: and, ah! She listened with a flitting Blush, With downcast Eyes and modest Grace; And she forgave me, that I gazed Too fondly on her Face! But when I told the cruel scorn Which crazed this bold and lovely Knight, And that he crossed the mountain woods Nor rested day nor night; That sometimes, from the savage Den, And sometimes from the darksome Shade, And sometimes starting up at once In green and sunny Glade, There came, and looked him in the face, An Angel beautiful and bright; And that he knew, it was a Fiend, This miserable Knight! And how, unknowing what he did, And saved from Outrage worse than Death The Lady of the Land; And how she wept and clasped his knees, And how she tended him in vain And ever strove to expiate The Scorn, that crazed his Brain: |