“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!”