I have fled from her presence, and ever have tried To show plain as might be--though I could not be rude-- That her love was misplaced, and would prove of no good. Now I lived in the house, and you'll therefore suppose That she saw I was fed, and looked after my clothes; Sewing on truant buttons, and giving a darn To the rents--for that stitching I never could learn. Now it happened to-day, That I happened to say That p'rhaps it might happen I should be away; For some old friends of mine Had just asked me to dine To give my opinion on some foreign wine. To m' Sarah, m' deary, of course I alluded, And though speaking a figure of speech only true did. But the maiden appeared As if something she feared; And, somehow--I cannot tell why, I felt quite nervous too, And tried all I could do To shun the sad turn of her eye. Now I told you she took of my raiment the care, So I mentioned I wanted my best clothes to wear. When--can you believe it?--she would not give them out She declared, till I told her what I was about. There was something not right she could readily see, And she ne'er did expect such behaviour from me. One she much had respected and highly esteemed, Till my manner of late, which quite bearish she deemed Well, I tried all I knew (While I thought, love, of you), To escape from her questions by no means a few. But I found each plan vain, Till at length I spoke plain,-- 'Then know, I am going a fair bride to obtain.' 'O the monster! the wretch!' she exclaimed with such fury, That I'm sure any justice and impartial jury, Had she killed me, would say 'twas manslaughter. As it was, from the fear she some rash act might do, To my heels out of sight like an arrow I flew, Truly grieved I was thus forced to thwart her. Still returning, I lingered some moments about, To catch hold of some maid, if perchance one came out, Who would fetch me my clothes, for I wished to appear To the greatest advantage, when coming up here; But just as I had made up my mind to depart, She stepp'd forth, and I scarcely had time back to start, Ere she drew near the spot where I stood; And, overwhelmed by despair, on the bank's mossy side She flung herself down, and most piteously cried. 'Oh, poor dear! 'twill,' I thought, 'do her good.' She had buried her face in her hands from my view, Yet I saw a tear trickle her long fingers through,-- How I wished I her grief could assuage! But I feared all the means I the pow'r had to try, Which her sorrows could soothe, or her bitter tears dry, Might p'rhaps also rekindle her rage: So I kept snug concealed there as still as a mouse, Till she sobbed out the very last tear; Then just waited to see her safe into the house, And made double-quick haste to get here. So, my friends, you perceive that no blame I can own, I felt sure the excuse for the fault would atone;