"]
Now, dears! if your lovers you would not lose them,
Tak' counsel--it is not an hour ower sune:
Be sure that in holy bands ye noose them
_Before you let them tak' aff their shune_.
[The maidens thought they would amuse them,
And, laughing, they chorused to the tune,
"Oh yes, we in holy bands will noose them
_Before we let them tak' aff their shune_."]
XXI.
THE BALLAD OF MATRIMONY.
"Come, now tell me, Clarabella,
How that wondrous thing befell,
Why you took that sorry fellow,
Leaving me who loved you well?
It was, good faith! a sad miscarriage,
And cost me many a pang of pain;
Indeed, when I heard of your marriage,
I vowed I ne'er would love again."
"Well, I don't mind, since you're pathetic,
And so the reason you shall hear:
Th' affair was one of arithmetic--
A matter of so much a year.
His father left five thousand good
Of pounds per annum, as you know,
And you possessed, I understood,
Of yearly thousands only two."
"Well, why did I, who knew of Cupid,
Display so much stupid-ity
As not to know--the thing was lucid--
From Cupid comes Cupid-ity?"
"But not too late," cried Clarabella:
"My husband dear has gone to heaven;
He left the five to me, good fellow!
And five and two, you know, make seven."
I laughed and bowed to Clarabella,
And quickly homewards bent my way,
And there became a rustic fellow,
And donned a suit of hodden-grey.
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