But troubadours, were stout and strong, Of tough, and stubborn, stuff, And took the rough, with the sleek, and smooth, The smooth, with the rusty rough, So up thro' the drift, of the hummocky ruck, Of the clouds, he searched for a star, To serenade, with the thringumy-thrang, Of the thrum, of his new guitar. The glint of one, thro' a galloping cloud, He caught, and he screwed his wire, And gave a twist, to its patent head, And toned the catgut higher. Then flung the cape of his cloak aside, And in an æsthetic strain, He pitched his voice, to the concert key, And twanged on the strings amain. [Illustration] But having expressed himself in song, With a quivering verse or two, His favourite string gave out, with a bang, And stopped his impromptu. He muttered a satire upon that string, And sat on a bank, close by, When he heard the trip of a female foot, And lisp of a female sigh! She was one of the guardians, of the piece Of ground, that was round him there, An ariel spirit in azure blue, And fluffs of auburn hair, That framed a very attractive face, Of cream, and strawberry pink, And she greeted the troubadour bedight, With a captivating wink! "O troubadour, what brings you here, So lone and sad?" said she, Just throw your guitar across your back, And wander away with me. I'll show you the fairy dells, of mine, All tricked around with sheen, Of glittering gold, and sparkling gems, With electric lights between. [Illustration] "I'm a single woman, and never was once In love, with a man, till this!" And then she stooped to his quivering lip, Imprinting a dainty kiss. "Why don't you get up out of that?" she cried, And make no longer stay. But a spirit within, still held him down, In a magical sort of way. "O troubadour, you're a suitable man, To live in the woods with me, We'll dance to the charms of elphin song, Down under the greenwood tree." And she coaxed him again, with a dainty kiss, "Oh, sweetheart, come, be gay!" But a spirit within, still held him down, In a magical sort of way. "I hope, that you don't imagine," said she, "That I am a frivolous flirt, I'm the woman, that's new, the fashion to-day, With rational trunks, for skirt, I can ride, on a bicycle, made for two, Or 'tec out the sins of town," But all he could do, was give her a grin, From the spirit that held him down!