He met her with her milking-cans,
Too fast the moments speeded,
For while they chat on this and that
My first may low unheeded.
And was she call’d a forward jade,
And was he graceless reckon’d,
Because he stopt the dairy-maid,
Enchanted by my second?

Though stars in thousands stud the pole,
The fields own stars as yellow,
And when I gave that last my whole,
She thank’d a happy fellow.
But she was call’d a forward jade,
And I was graceless reckon’d;—
I only kiss’d that dairy-maid,
Enraptur’d by my second.