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For, while they all were travelling home,
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,) “ 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.
All Thoughts, all Passions, all Delights,
And feed his sacred flame.
Oft in my waking dreams do I
Beside the Ruined Tower.
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,
Amid the ling’ring Light.
Few Sorrows hath she of her own,
The Songs, that make her grieve.
I played a soft and doleful Air,
The Ruin wild and hoary.
She listened with a flitting Blush,
But gaze upon her Face.
I told her of the Knight, that wore
The Lady of the Land.
I told her, how he pin'd: and, ah!
Interpreted my own.
She listened with a fitting Blush,
Too fondly on her Face !
But when I told the cruel scorn
Nor rested day nór night;
That sometimes from the savage Den,
In green and sunny Glade,
There came, and looked him in the face,
This miserable Knight!
And how, unknowing what he did,
The Lady of the Land;
And how she wept and clasped his knees,
The Scorn, that crazed his Brain :