Thomas James Judkin

NOW Jane was under that old mulberry-tree,

So watched and guarded near the summer-house;

I caught her pilfering from the lower boughs,—

“Dear Heaven! what purple lips! they ’ll surely be

To in-door folk no doubtful history.”

Now this to ’scape she stood with knitted brows

In pretty strife betwixt the ifs and hows,—

No spring was near,—and turning full on me,

She said, “Sweet cousin, thy advice I pray.”

“It is,” quoth I (one arm her waist enfolding,

And with the other hand her small wrists holding),

“It is, to kiss those tell-tale stains away.”

But ah! as kisses oft will do, this made

The matter worse, and both of us betrayed.