“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!”