Soon — my scattered wits returning, — 



I drew nearer to the place 

 Where, upon her throne, my Goddess 



Still reigned in regal grace. 

 There with fealty I proffered 



My service small and great, 

 To be her humble footstool 

 - Or share her throne of state. 



'Half my kingdom I will give you, 



"Knightly Sir/' she softly said, 

 And I sat me down beside her, 



While the glad Sun smiled o'erhead. 

 Then we talked of all things wond'rous 



That the world had ever heard, 

 While that graceless feathered songster 



Sat and drank in every word. 



Then my heart grew bold with daring, 



And, as wild bee nectar sips 

 From his unresisting floweret, 



Soft I kissed her rosebud lips. 

 And the world was none the wiser 



Of our wooing, sweet, I think, 

 Save our silver-crested singer, — 



That unblushing bobolink. 



There he sat, and swayed, and listened, 



Sagely wagging his wise head, 

 Till he gathered all the meaning 



Of the plighted vows we said. 

 Then, in sweet and liquid measure, 



Full of glad and happy life, 

 Sang his golden benediction, 



And went home to tell his wife. 



266 



