"Is there no one else then to be married, I pray? Mr. Hymen is not found at work every day," Said the Abbot; "can no other man boast a heart? Have you all really 'scaped from young What's-his-name's dart?" Just as if he was only essaying to fill Up the number required to form a quadrille; And had cried, Take your partners, and no more time waste, You young people might surely make rather more haste. "Oh, pray catch me! Oh, dear! I'm so dreadfully queer-- I shall faint--I shall die-- I must have a good cry"-- Said Miss Riley, who could not her feelings command, As she seized and kept hold of young Donoghue's hand. "Shall you tell them? Oh, no; Though I'm very so-so. And my heart beats so fast, It will sure burst at last. No! 'tis useless cold water to throw on my grief, Far too deep are my sorrows for such a relief. Oh, could you but feel What my tongue must reveal-- How much I love you, My dear Donoghue! Your heart surely would melt, though it very hard aint, And you'd try all you could to relieve my complaint." "Well," thinks he, "I don't care, Though in truth she's not fair; Still there's hundreds far worse, that I'm sure." So he said, "You're so kind, Miss, I'd fain ease your mind; But why did you not speak up before? For you really have taken me quite by surprise, Though great presence of mind at emergence will rise. Still, be quick; for should we by some chance be too late, I must leave you to struggle alone with your fate."