“Can anything avail
Beldame, for my hid grief?—
Listen: I’ll tell the tale,
It may bring faint relief!—
“I came where I was not known,
In hope to flee my sin;
And walking forth alone
A young man said, ‘Good e’en.’
“In gentle voice and true
He asked to marry me;
‘You only—only you
Fulfil my dream!’ said he.
“We married o’ Monday morn,
In the month of hay and flowers;
My cares were nigh forsworn,
And perfect love was ours.
“But ere the days are long
Untimely fruit will show;
My Love keeps up his song,
Undreaming it is so.
“And I awake in the night,
And think of months gone by,
And of that cause of flight
Hidden from my Love’s eye.
“Discovery borders near,
And then! . . . But something stirred?—
My husband—he is here!
Heaven—has he overheard?”—
“Yes; I have heard, sweet Nan;
I have known it all the time.
I am not a particular man;
Misfortunes are no crime:
“And what with our serious need
Of sons for soldiering,
That accident, indeed,
To maids, is a useful thing!”