Rhyme? and reason? . awn !O those eloquent eyes ! 1 was drunk with the dawnOf a splendid surmise— 1 was stung by a look, I was slain by a tear, by atempest of sighs. And I whispered uTis time!Is not Love at its deepest?Shall we squander Lifes prime,While thou waitest and weepest?Let us settle it, License or Banns?—though undoubtedlyBanns are the cheapest. A TALANTA IN CAMDEN- TO \VN I 89 Ah, my Hero, said I, « Let me be thy Leander !But I lost her reply— Something ending with gander—For the omnibus rattled so loud that no mortal couldquite understand her. THE LANG COORTIN. The ladye she stood
Rhyme? and reason? . awn !O those eloquent eyes ! 1 was drunk with the dawnOf a splendid surmise— 1 was stung by a look, I was slain by a tear, by atempest of sighs. And I whispered uTis time!Is not Love at its deepest?Shall we squander Lifes prime,While thou waitest and weepest?Let us settle it, License or Banns?—though undoubtedlyBanns are the cheapest. A TALANTA IN CAMDEN- TO \VN I 89 Ah, my Hero, said I, « Let me be thy Leander !But I lost her reply— Something ending with gander—For the omnibus rattled so loud that no mortal couldquite understand her. THE LANG COORTIN. The ladye she stood at her lattice high,Wi her doggie at her feet; Thorough the lattice she can spyThe passers in the street. There s one that standeth at the door, And tirleth at the pin :Now speak and say, my popinjay, If I sail let him in. Then up and spake the popinjay That flew abune her head : Gae let him in that tirls the pin:He cometh thee to wed. O when he cam the parlour in,A woeful man was he ! THE LANG COOK 77N. 191. •And dinna ye ken your lover agen,Sae well that loveth thee ? And how wad I ken ye loved me, Sir, That have been sae lang away?And how wad I ken ye loved me, Sir ?Ye never telled me sae. Said—Ladye dear, and the salt, salt tearCam rinnin doon his cheek, I have sent thee tokens of my loveThis many and many a week. I92 THE LANG COORTIN\ O didna ye get the rings, Ladye, The rings o the gowd sae fine ?I wot that I have sent to thee Four score, four score and nine. They cam to me, said that fair ladye. Wow, they were flimsie things ! Said—that chain o gowd, my doggie to howd,It is made o thae self-same rings. And didna ye get the locks, the locks, The locks o my ain black hair,Whilk I sent by post, whilk I sent by box,Whilk I sent by the carrier? They cam to me, said that fair ladye ; And I prithee send nae mair! Said— that cushion sae red, for my doggies head5It is stuffed wi thae locks o hair. And didna ye get the letter, Ladye,Tied wi a silken string,Whilk I
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