63 



THE LOVER'S LEAP. 



Quid Fcemina Possit. 



Well, tliougli I love not boasting, 



Sith all will have it so, 

 You shall hear how we left the field behind 



A score of years ago. 



Time will unclasp his fetters, 



And age grow young once more, 

 When we think of all that was dared and done 



In the mad days of yore. 



But, first fill up another cup 



Till o'er the mantled brim. 

 Sweet as the dew of a red ripe lip, 



The glittering bubbles swim : 



"To the loving and the lov'd" we'll drink, 



" The frank, the kind, the bold ; 

 To all warm living hearts, and those 



That never till death were cold." 



'Twas a dull November morning. 



South wind and cloudy sky. 

 When, if scent were ever certain, 



A fox was doom'd to die. 



We met at Bolton Thicket, 



That never blank was drawn ; 

 Eresh lies the scene before me now 



As it were but yester'-morn. 



