Enigma

He met her with her milking-cans, Too fast the moments speeded, For while they chat on this and that My first may low unheeded. And was she call'd a forward jade, And was he graceless reckon'd, Because he stopt the dairy-maid, Enchanted by my second?

Though stars in thousands stud the pole, The fields own stars as yellow, And when I gave that last my whole, She thank'd a happy fellow. But she was call'd a forward jade, And I was graceless reckon'd;-- I only kiss'd that dairy-maid, Enraptur'd by my second.