II.

Light and darkness, brown and fair, Ha! they think I do not see,— I behind them, swiftly rowing. Rowing? Yes, but eyes are free, Eyes and fancies:—

Now what fire in looks and glances! Now the dark head bends, grown bolder. Ringlets mingle—silence—broken (All unconscious of beholder) By a kiss!

What could lovers ask or miss In such moonlight, such June weather, But a boat like this, (me rowing!) And forever and together To be floating?

Ah! if she and I such boating Might but share one day, some fellow With strong arms behind, Pasquale, Or Luigi, with gay awning, (She likes yellow!)

She—I mean Pepita—mellow Moonlight on the waves, no other To break silence or catch whispers, All the love which now I smother Told and spoken,—

Listened to, a kiss for token: How, my Signor? What! so soon Homeward bound? We, born of Venice, Live by night and nap by noon. If 'twere me, now,

With my brown-eyed girl, this prow Would not turn for hours still; But the Signor bids, commands, I am here to do his will, He is master.

Glide we on; so, faster, faster. Now the two are safely landed. Buono mano, grazie, Signor, They who love are open-handed. Now, Pepita!